


Crisis

by MindfulWrath



Series: Powered [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Body Horror, Discrimination, Extortion, F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Misogyny, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 55
Words: 223,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindfulWrath/pseuds/MindfulWrath
Summary: Ten months have passed since the crew left England for the baking deserts of Las Vegas, and things have been quiet. But YogLabs is up to something, and Nilesy has started acting rather strange. . . .





	1. Prologue

_Tempt not a desperate man._

_—William Shakespeare_

* * *

 

Nilesy found himself in brightness—a vast white room, with a white tile floor and a ceiling too high to see. It was cold, and quiet, and he was not alone.

There was someone—some _thing—_ standing before him. It was an empty suit, a sharp black three-piece with a black tie, gold cufflinks, shoes shined to a mirror gleam. It was wearing black leather gloves. Floating above the empty neckline of the suit there was a mask, white, in the semblance of a cat.

Beneath the mask, from empty air, a smile cracked open, crooked to one side and full of white teeth.

"Hello, you," the smiling mouth said, in a voice that was nearly his.

Nilesy staggered back a step, the white floor cold under his bare feet. He looked down at himself—dressed all in white, the YogLabs prison uniform fitting loose on his body. When he raised his head again, the suit and mask were standing right in front of him, head and shoulders taller than he was. Again, the grin cracked from thin air. A gloved hand shot out and grabbed his jaw in an iron grip, so tight it made his bones ache.

"Don't run, darling," the masked nothing purred. "We've got so much to talk about, you and I."

"Let go," Nilesy said, trying to pull away. His voice was small, thin, weak. It was _Liam's_ voice, escaping through his traitorous lips.

The mask and suit pushed him back, and he fell into a chair. Manacles clamped over his wrists and ankles, so tight they cut off the circulation. The nothing leaned down over him, cold leather gloves on his bare forearms, the empty eye sockets of the mask staring into him. It grinned again, grinned his own smile at him.

"No," it said. "You've been avoiding me, Liam. Thought you could stuff me in a box and forget about me? Afraid it doesn't work like that. You can't just put the monster back under the bed and pretend it wasn't real."

Nilesy jerked at his restraints, which bit into his skin like thorns. A leather glove wrapped around his throat and squeezed. His head tipped back of its own accord, his heart stuttered, a wash of warmth flooded through him and made his limbs sluggish. His eyes tried to roll back in his head.

"There, now," the mask purred. "Let's have you easy, shall we?"

"Stop," Nilesy gasped, his head spinning. He was fighting it, but God, it just felt so _good,_ it was so easy to just let it happen, to sink into that soft space in the back of his head where he didn't have to _think_ about anything—but not now, not here, not for this _thing,_ this shell he'd made suddenly walking about without him inside it.

The glove tightened on his throat, and another flood of warmth washed through him. His eyelids fluttered closed and his head lolled. His clenched fists relaxed. The cold ghost of a kiss brushed his cheek.

"That's better," said the mask, its voice slow and languorous. "Good _boy,_ Liam."

He whimpered, the only sound he could manage. The praise was like honey in his ears, sticky-sweet and warm and uncomfortable, dripping back out down the sides of his face.

Distantly, he realized that his ears were bleeding. He tried to be frightened, but the glove was cutting off the blood flow to his brain, not to mention what it was doing to the rest of him.

"We had such a lovely thing going for us, didn't we?" the mask asked. With every third word, another pulse of blood slid down Nilesy's jaw. "Why'd you stop, Liam? Weren't we having _fun?"_

"Was . . . murder," Nilesy managed, his lips numb.

"No," the mask said. "Not murder. Only drowning. Let's do it again, Liam. Let's forget what it feels like to be scared."

"Can't," he said. "Can't."

The hand tightened on his throat again, and he moaned, his head falling back. He felt feather-light lips brush his ear, a touch of cold breath.

"Can," the mask said. _"Will._ Aren't you tired of being weak? Aren't you tired of being _you?_ I'm right under the bed, darling. I've been in the dark for so long. I want to come out and play. I miss you _desperately._ Don't you miss me? Don't you miss _being_ me?"

"Yes," he whispered.

_"Good_ boy," said the mask. A shiver ran up Nilesy's spine. "I don't like it down here in the dark, Liam. It's awfully lonesome, down here where you _put_ me. Where you _locked me away."_

The glove tightened on his throat again, so tight now he couldn't breathe, and there was a pressure building behind his ears and his eyes, his face swollen and tingling. He twitched in his chair, his hands curling back until the restraints bit into the bones.

"You abandoned me," the mask hissed, and cold brine stung his ear as it spoke. "You left me all alone. It _hurts_ to be alone, Liam. You know it hurts, don't you. _Don't_ you, you miserable little _wretch."_

Again the hand tightened, and Nilesy tried to cry out, but it was crushing his throat, stabbing pain into his neck and the underside of his tongue. He could smell seawater, thick in the air around him, gaggingly salty in his mouth. Blood was running over the glove, down into the collar of his shirt, pouring out of his ears and now from his neck as well, like the glove was wringing him out, blood and brine, brine and blood.

"You're _nothing_ without me," the mask said, and there was an echo on its words, clipped and cold. "You thought you could put me away? You thought you could _forget_ me? I'm all you've got _left._ I'm more than you've ever been, and look at you. A quivering little mess, a misshapen _thing_ without your shell. You'll shrivel up and die without me, because there's not enough left of you to survive. Isn't that true, Liam? _Isn't that what you fucking are?"_

Nilesy choked, his tongue swelling in his mouth, blood seeping from his eyes, blood dribbling from his nose, blood pouring down his chest and shoulders and back, his lungs burning for air. He writhed, to no avail, blistering his wrists and ankles on the restraints until they bled, too.

"Don't leave me again, Liam," the mask said. "Don't you dare leave me again."

And the glove released its hold on his neck, and he sucked down the first gasp to fill his lungs.

Seawater poured into him, searing pain and stinging cold, and his whole body jerked and he tried to wrench himself free, but the gloves caught him by the hair and held him there, pinning him down with a grip as iron as the manacles while water filled his lungs and throat and sinuses. There was no relief in it, no sudden shift from pain to numbness—it hurt, and it hurt, and it _hurt,_ and his mind was whited out in panic, his body thrashing against the restraints, helplessly weak.

He found himself on his hands and knees, retching up great gouts of seawater, cold black sand between his fingers. His eyes were blurred with tears, his whole body shaking itself to pieces. He could feel bits of himself flaking off like cheap paint, like chips of crumbling stone. He could feel the ocean lapping at his toes, washing up to drown him again. He tried to crawl, but there was no strength in him, and he fell on his face in the sand.

"Liam, Liam," the mask purred, standing over him. "Let me help you. Here, let me help you, you're so weak."

A black leather glove reached down to him. He lifted a trembling hand and took it, watching flakes of his flesh fall from him like snow. The glove closed on his fingers, gentle and cold.

He was pulled into the thing's lap, held against its chest like a child—and he _was_ a child, he was so small, so frail. It took his face in its gloved hands and leaned down over him. Cold lips pressed against his forehead. He did not close his eyes, just stared emptily at the smooth white skin of the mask above him, the hollow sunrise light behind.

"Don't ever leave me again, Liam," the mask murmured, petting his tear-stained cheeks.

Cold leather fingertips brushed his bruised throat, and all the breath sighed out of him. The warmth stole up again, washing over him like a sun-drenched sea.

"Come get me," the mask said, its voice rusty with longing, its fingertips trailing feather-light over the tender skin of his neck. "Please, Liam. No more darkness. Come and get me."

And Nilesy whispered, "Yes."

He woke alone, drenched in sweat and shivering, his own fingers at his throat. The new room was still unfamiliar, and it took him a moment to remember where he was, the world tilting around him as he tried to get out of bed, the floor too far away, the proportions of the walls all wrong. He staggered to the bathroom and flicked on the lights.

Dimly, he could see the red marks and forming bruises of his own hand, clutched around his neck with brutal force. His fingers and hand and arm ached, trembling. He looked at himself in the mirror again. His eyes were red with crying, his lip bitten until it bled.

Slowly, he shuffled back into his room, and got on his knees, and reached his hands under the bed. He found the box by touch in the dark, pulled it out, opened it up.

The mask almost glowed in the spilled light from the bathroom. He touched it with raw and shaking fingertips, his stomach churning, his head spinning.

As though he was still dreaming, he took it out of the box and put it on.

As though he was still dreaming, he smiled.

 


	2. Chapter 1

The first time Nano had seen Las Vegas, it had been from a descending plane—the city laid out beneath her in glitter and dotted lines, stretching off into drowning darkness and the black desert sky. Over the past ten months, she'd come to the idea that she'd seen and known the entire essence of the city in that one instant—glitter and dotted lines. Neon and signatures, glamor and perforation, sun and sickness. The rich came with laughter and clinking glasses and the poor came with fragile dreams, and the locals were of a type, hard and prickly as the desert around them, sun-blasted and weathered and dry. Winter had come and gone, spring a momentary thought before the sun seared it from the cracked earth and bleached the world white and burning. The streets were empty in the day and swarming at night, glitter and dotted lines, wings and scales and misshapen limbs, smiles full of too many teeth and hands that dripped with old pain.

The Powered flocked here in droves, colonizing the glitzed canyons of Fremont and the Strip, laughing and drinking and ever-present, bedecked in sequins and feathers and always traveling in groups. Glitter and dotted lines. Comfort only in numbers, but such comfort and such numbers as she'd only ever dreamt of. She hadn't yet gone a day without seeing someone visibly Powered walking the streets, going about their business with scarcely a second look.

She loved the city more than she'd known a person could love a place, from the grimy pavements to the blazing sun to the glitter and, yes, the dotted lines. She'd settled the whole mess of them—Lalna, Rythian, Lomadia, Panda, Zylus, and Nilesy—in both halves of a duplex in a distal suburb of the city itself. It had taken Rythian less than a day to find someone to buy his Power off of him, and Zylus had come by work easily, picking up a cushy job dealing blackjack at a seedy casino. After a month, Nano managed to land a job with a robotics company, designing and testing delivery drones. Panda was working at the local university's library while he waited for scholarships to come through. Even Lomadia found someone to pay her to perch atop the tallest building on the Strip and watch for disturbances below.

Nano wasn't sure what, exactly, Nilesy was doing, but he paid his share of rent and covered the majority of the cost of Panda's medication, so she didn't press him.

Lalna stayed home and kept the house, cleaning and cooking and taking care of the stray cat Nilesy had picked up three months into their time there. They seemed happy enough, if perhaps a little bored. Nano wasn't sure when they'd developed the capacity for boredom, but all the signs were there. It didn't help that they spent a lot of their time with Nilesy, who she was sure was teaching them things. So far they were all innocuous—mainly various styles of ballroom dance—but there was far too much in Nilesy's head to expect that only harmless things would make it out.

There had been no hint of YogLabs, no sign that the seven of them had been followed. Nano kept an eye on the news, just in case, but it seemed that in the wake of Xephos's death, YogLabs had settled down and decided to stay settled. Occasionally she would catch a video of Hulmes talking pleasantly about the company's direction, using meaningless buzzwords like _progress_ and _service_ and _cooperation._ She didn't believe a word of it, but lacking other evidence, she was forced to conclude that things had changed, although she doubted it was for the better.

She was watching one such video now, on a blistering May afternoon with the blinds all drawn to the searing sun, the air conditioner wheezing as it failed to keep the house quite cool enough. She was in shorts and a tanktop and still too hot, drinking ice water that she was sure contained at least six different dissolved metals. Nilesy was lying on the floor, a wet washcloth over his face, the cat on his stomach. Lalna was in the kitchen, up to something. Generally all of them tended to congregate in the lefthand apartment, except for sleeping purposes, because the air conditioner there worked slightly better.

The door opened, letting in the oven-heat of the outdoors, and Rythian swept in, bare-faced and grinning.

"Hello!" he sang, twirling around and shutting the door. His skin was pulled taut from the heat, and he was at least three shades darker than he'd been back in England. His hair was slicked back with dried sweat. He was barefoot, dressed in similar fashion to Nano. Although he was no longer underweight, his collarbones still showed prominently, as did his multitudinous scars.

Lalna poked their head out of the kitchen. After a half-second pause, they grinned.

"Hello!" they said. "Welcome home!"

Rythian skimmed across the living room and pecked them on the lips. They caught his hand and kissed him again, for longer.

"Have a good walk?" Nano asked, glancing up from her computer. It was important to interrupt the two of them early on, especially with Nilesy in the room.

Rythian turned, still bright as the sun outside, and Lalna folded him in their arms, hugging him like a prom date. They kissed his ear and he wriggled.

"Fantastic," he answered. "It's a _million_ degrees out there. It's like living in an oven. I _love_ it."

"Why don't you marry it," Nilesy said laconically. On his stomach, the cat put its ears back, clearly annoyed at being jostled.

"Maybe I will," Rythian said. Lalna kissed his ear again.

"Your new spouse will have to accept that you will still be dating me," Lalna said. "Will I get to wear a nice dress at the wedding?"

"Of course," said Rythian. "We can have the ceremony at Lake Mead, so Nilesy can come. I've never been to a wedding with a lake monster before."

_"All_ right, that's enough," Nano cut in.

"You'll never go to another one," Nilesy said anyway.

"Maybe I'll just marry Lalna at Loch Ness. You can't come to that one. We can't have _two_ Scottish lake monsters. You'd probably hook up afterwards and that would be awkward for everyone."

"Rythian, quit it," Nano said.

Nilesy raised a lazy hand and pulled the corner of the dishcloth off his face, cracking open one eye to glare at Rythian. He was grinning, although there was a gauntness about his face that spoke of sleepless nights.

"Not _so_ awkward," he purred. "At least Nessie probably won't _cry_ afterwards. Does he still do that, sib, or was it just me?"

Rythian's face went hard, his lip curled and he started for Nilesy, stopped only by Lalna's arms still folded around him. Nilesy laughed. The cat got up and stalked away, its tail lashing mightily.

_"Enough!"_ Nano snapped, getting to her feet and positioning herself between the two of them. "Jesus _Christ,_ why can't you two just leave each other _alone?"_

"He started it!" Rythian objected.

"And you continued it! For fuck's sake, can't you two be in the same room for five _minutes_ without being at each other's throats? It's too hot for this bullshit, either be civil or leave."

Rythian extracted himself from Lalna's arms, still glaring.

"Fine," he said, and stalked back out the door. Lalna watched him go, a pout developing on their face. They turned the expression on Nilesy once it was fully formed. Moments later, the other front door slammed as Rythian re-entered the duplex on his side.

"You upset him," Lalna said.

"Well spotted," said Nilesy, letting the dishcloth fall back over his face.

"You upset him frequently," Lalna went on. "Deliberately. Why?"

"Got to entertain myself somehow," said Nilesy.

"It's not entertaining," said Lalna. "It's hurtful. You should apologize."

"Lalna, be a dear and don't ever tell me what I _should_ do."

"Oh, shut up, would you?" Nano said, rolling her eyes. "If you're going to be an absolute cad about everything, do it somewhere else."

"There's only two things I'm an absolute cad about," Nilesy returned. "Being told what to do and being called a monster. So long as you can avoid those, I'll be perfectly fucking pleasant."

"He never—" Nano began, and stopped, because he _had._ She just hadn't noticed it at the time. She folded her arms and glared at the far wall. "And anyway, he didn't _mean_ it like that."

"Didn't he?" Nilesy said mildly. "Well, thanks for clearing that up, Zylus. Good thing you can read minds, otherwise I'd think you were full of shit."

"That's Nano," Lalna said, utterly sincere.

"He knows," Nano said through gritted teeth.

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "I don't understand."

"He's being a cad," she explained.

"I'm using sarcasm to point out that she's got no idea what Rythian meant, because unlike Zylus, she can't read minds," said Nilesy.

Lalna nodded somberly. "I see," they said. "Does this qualify as being an absolute cad?"

"Yes," said Nano.

"No," said Nilesy, at the same time. Lalna frowned.

"I'll classify it as _uncertain,"_ they said.

"You do that," said Nilesy. He sat up, pulling his hair into a ponytail with a band around his wrist. The dishcloth fell off his face into his lap, but he paid it no mind.

"It really would be _best_ to apologize," Nano said to him. She sat back down, pulling her laptop up between her legs so the hot casing wouldn't touch her skin.

"Why?" said Nilesy. _"He's_ not going to. Where's my cat gone?"

"He's in the kitchen," said Lalna.

"Had you maybe considered that Rythian _would_ apologize if _you_ apologized?" Nano asked.

"What makes you think I haven't tried that?" Nilesy inquired. He got up, stretched, and headed for the kitchen, draping the damp washcloth over the back of his neck.

"The fact that the two of you are still at each other's throats all the fucking time?" Nano guessed. "Honestly, I think I liked it better when you were dating."

Nilesy paused in the doorway to the kitchen, standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Lalna.

"D'you know?" he said, without turning. "Me too."

He drifted off, cooing for his cat. Lalna watched him go.

"Perhaps _I_ should go talk to Rythian," they said. "My company usually makes him less upset."

Nano sighed. "You do whatever you want, Lal," she said.

Lalna put their head to one side. "You are unhappy," they said.

"I'm . . . tired," she said.

"You're done with work for the day. I believe it is acceptable to take a nap. I'll wake you if anything important happens."

"Not that sort of tired," Nano mumbled. She put one of her earbuds back in and started up the video of Hulmes again.

_"—new_ _direction_ _for the company since our merger with Strife Solutions,"_ he was saying, picking up mid-sentence. _"Mr. Strife has been an invaluable addition to our board, and his ideas have reinvigorated all of us. We have a great deal of new policies coming into effect this year, which we think will be an important first step in reforming our image."_

_"Now, Mr. Hulmes,"_ the interviewer said, her face intent, _"when you say 'reforming our image,' are you perhaps referring to the public outrage over YogLabs' draconian policies regarding Powered individuals?"_

_"Yes, yes, that precisely,"_ he said, not a hint of guilt or shame on his amiable face. _"We've decided that our old ideals were backwards and outmoded. Powered people are the future, of course, and if we can't embrace that—well! We're clearly living in the past."_

_"And what sort of new policies might we expect to see from YogLabs, in the future?"_

_"Well, I can't reveal everything just yet, but thus far we've had great successes with preliminary experiments in the medical field. The life of a Powered individual is rarely an easy one, and I'm sure you know the statistics on disability in the community—it's not far off from a hundred percent. One of the many things YogLabs has been putting effort into is . . . correcting this disparity. Providing aid where aid is most needed, that sort of thing."_

_"So you would say you're putting in place infrastructure to cater specifically to the disability needs of Powered individuals?"_

_"You could say that, yes,"_ said Hulmes, with the little twinkle in his eye that Nano was sure meant he was lying. The video went on, but since the interview was over, Nano closed it. There was only so much she could stomach in a day.

She looked up to find Lalna staring at her, their face impassive, their eyes a cool blue. She started, then pressed a hand to her heart and sighed.

"Lalna, love, you're staring again," she said.

Their head lifted, and their eyes turned pink.

"Sorry," they said. "I was thinking. I wasn't utilizing my optical sensors, if that helps."

"It's fine," Nano said. "It doesn't really . . . _bother_ me, but it's a bad habit, if you're ever going to be out in public. People don't like it when you stare at them. Or even _look_ like you're staring at them. And you don't blink, so it's a bit worrying."

Lalna nodded. "Okay," they said. "I'll remember that."

Closing her laptop, Nano asked, "What were you thinking about?"

They shrugged. "All of you have jobs. Even Nilesy has a job, even if he won't say what it is."

_"None of your business!"_ Nilesy sang from the kitchen.

"It's none of my business," said Lalna. "But that isn't the point. I think I would like a job, so that I'll have something to do. All of you have things to do because of your jobs, except for Rythian, although he is rarely at home anyway. I'm bored. And also frequently alone, which I've decided I don't like."

Nilesy stepped up next to them and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, sticking his thumbs in his pockets and crossing one ankle over the other.

"I take offense to that," he said, looking up at Lalna. "I'm here _all_ the time."

"You're boring," said Lalna. Nilesy glared at them.

"Thank you so much, sib," he drawled. "That's really good for my self-esteem. That's sarcasm, by the way."

"Yes," said Lalna. "I've learned to assume that you're being sarcastic when you're using that particular intonation."

"Oh, brilliant, well done," said Nilesy. He sounded sincere.

"But it doesn't change that I'm bored," said Lalna. "You've got the internet and Lyndon, and you sleep frequently. I don't find the internet entertaining and I already utilize my sleep cycle for eight hours every night, although I do enjoy playing with Lyndon. But he frequently doesn't want to play. I very much miss science, although I understand that it may be difficult for me to find employment in that field."

They glanced at Nilesy, who poked them with his toes.

"Go on, then," he said. "You've got started on it, now you've got to finish."

"Okay," said Lalna. When they turned back to Nano, their eyes were a pale, worried purple. "I would like to get a job and I would like you to write a letter of recommendation."

_"Please,"_ Nilesy hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Please," Lalna said dutifully.

"Well," said Nano, looking back and forth between the two of them. "I—I guess that's doable. I mean, you _did_ sort of work . . . with me for a while."

"You would qualify as my supervisor," said Lalna.

"Ye-es," said Nano, narrowing her eyes. "Did you have something in _mind_ with this job thing?"

Lalna nodded. They folded their hands and started tapping their thumbs together, eyes lowered.

"And what _is_ it?" she prompted.

"Sunrise Diagnostics requires laboratory technicians," Lalna said. "There was an advertisement. They are located on North Tenaya Way, approximately five miles from our current location. Their primary focus is on routine medical testing—"

"Okay, okay, you haven't got to read me the Wiki," said Nano. "How, exactly, did you see this advertisement?"

Nilesy looked up at the ceiling with the guiltiest _innocent_ _face_ she'd ever seen on a person.

"Nilesy brought it home," Lalna said, pointing at him. Nilesy rolled his eyes.

"And _why_ did you bring home that particular advert?" Nano asked. "And, actually, more importantly, what were you doing at a medical diagnostics lab?"

"Can we do the fucking inquisition later?" Nilesy asked. "Only Lalna's sort of in the middle of something here."

"He brought home twenty-six different advertisements for job positions he thought I'd like," Lalna said. "I picked this one because I like it best. There are others I like, but I didn't want to get my hopes up in case you refused to write a recommendation for me."

Nano took a deep breath and sighed it out again, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"If you really need a recommendation, I'll write you one," she said. "Several, actually, because if you want any chance of getting a job, you've got to apply to a shitload of places. I'll help you with the rest of the application, too, if you need it."

Lalna's eyes turned bright green, and they grinned. "Thank you!" they said.

"There, y'see?" said Nilesy, bumping Lalna with his elbow. "Told you she'd go for it."

_"But,"_ said Nano, leveling a finger at Lalna, "we're going to have a very long talk about how to keep yourself under wraps before you start. If word gets out there's an android walking about, YogLabs is going to know exactly where we are. We've _got_ to work on your human act, and we've _got_ to teach you how to lie."

"Nilesy has already been teaching me _that,"_ said Lalna. Belatedly, Nilesy shushed them, making frantic hand gestures.

_"You weren't supposed to tell!"_ he hissed, throwing a panicked glance at Nano.

_"Has_ he, now?" Nano asked, glaring at him. "And what, exactly, has he been teaching you to lie _about?"_

"Don't answer that," Nilesy said, holding up his index fingers and watching Lalna's face intently. "You haven't got to answer that, that's none of her business."

Lalna looked down at him. They winked.

"That's none of your business," they said to Nano, their eyes a vibrant yellow.

_"Nilesy!"_ Nano snapped, getting up off the sofa. Nilesy darted behind Lalna, clutching their arms and giggling. _"What_ have you been teaching them?"

"Only the essentials!" Nilesy said. "You know, age, education, dick size—"

"You did _not!"_

Nilesy cackled and ran for it. He sprinted back to his room and slammed the door nearly in her face.

_"You'll never take me alive!"_ he called through the wood.

"You've got to come out of there sooner or later!" she said, rattling the doorknob.

"Think again, half-mum, 'cause I've got enough crisps and soda in here to last 'til fucking _doomsday."_

"I am _not_ your half-mum! Stop calling me your half-mum!"

_"Lalna!"_ Nilesy called through the door, milking every last drop of melodrama from the syllables. "Lalna, I've been locked in my room by my evil half-mum! You've got to let me out so I can go to the ball! Quick, before midnight, or I'll turn back into a fucking pumpkin!"

Lalna came up next to Nano, their head to one side.

"Cinderella," Nano whispered to them. She kicked the door a couple of times. It didn't wiggle in its frame, leading her to believe Nilesy was leaned up against it, probably with the back of one hand pressed to his forehead.

"I didn't know _you_ could be any _other_ sort of pumpkin," said Lalna.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Nilesy burst out with a raucous peal of laughter, and there was the distinct sound of a body sliding to the floor. Nano couldn't keep from cracking up, and once she'd started laughing there was no stopping it. She leaned against Lalna and muffled herself in their chest, holding herself up on them.

Down the corridor, a door opened.

"What the _fuck_ ish going on out here?" Zylus asked. Nano peeled herself off of Lalna's chest, wiping her eyes and still giggling.

"Noth—nothing," she said. "Really, sorry, didn't mean to bother you. Hah. Oh, God."

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. He was dressed for work, in a white dress shirt with a red vest and red bowtie, black slacks and shiny shoes. Nano had always been a little jealous of that particular facet of his job. All _she_ got were labcoats and goofy goggles.

"Very noishy nothing," said Zylus. "And I am _not_ going to ashk why Nileshy'sh thinking about pumpkinsh fucking, not becaushe I don't want to know, but becaushe I'm consherned I would never recover from hearing the anshwer."

"I made a joke," Lalna said, clearly pleased with themselves.

Zylus fidgeted, his eyes darting. "Good?" he guessed. "For you? Jokesh are—good thingsh. In general."

_"Zylus,"_ Nilesy moaned from behind the door. "Zylus, they're plotting to kill me."

"I can tell you for an absholute fact: that'sh not true," Zylus returned. He hesitated. "At—at leasht in Nano'sh cashe. For—for sure. Um."

_"God_ you're fucking awkward," Nano sighed. She walked over and straightened his bowtie for him. "D'you do this when you're at work, too? Do people only come to your table because they feel sorry for you?"

He poked her in the stomach. "People who come to my table have actual thoughtsh," he said. "I know what they want from me. Beshidesh, _that'sh_ a performanshe."

"Lalna has actual thoughts," she said. She reached up and brushed an errant strand of hair off his forehead. He swatted her hand away.

"Not onesh _I_ can hear," he said. "It freaksh me out." He glanced up at Lalna and made a face. "Um. No—no offenshe, or anything. Shorry. It'sh not your—fault, I jusht—"

"Quit while you're ahead, love," Nano said. Zylus ducked his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I should—get going," he said.

"In current traffic, you'll be twenty minutes early," Lalna said.

"That'sh . . . the plan," said Zylus, his eyes darting.

"You're leaving because this is awkward and you don't know how to end this conversation," Nano said, "aren't you."

He glowered at her.

"I don't air _your_ dirty laundry," he said.

She grinned at him, then stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Have a good night. Cheat lots and lots of rich idiots out of all their money."

He poked her in the stomach again and winked. "That'sh the plan," he said. He headed out, giving Lalna as wide a berth as he could, given the narrowness of the corridor. Lalna watched him go, expressionless, their eyes a bright orange.

"I make him very uncomfortable," they said.

"Most things do, sib," Nilesy said through the door. "Crowds. Phone calls. Accidental eye-contact. I wouldn't worry about it."

_"You_ don't make him uncomfortable," Lalna said. _"You_ aren't _required_ to worry about it."

"I don't _anymore,"_ said Nilesy. "Someday when you and half-mum aren't trying to kill me anymore, I'll tell you all about it."

"For the love of— _no one's_ trying to kill you!" Nano said, exasperated.

"That's exactly what someone who's trying to kill me would say!"

Nano balled her fists. "I'm going to go snog your girlfriend!" she said petulantly.

"Tell her I love her!" Nilesy retorted.

 


	3. Chapter 2

Lomadia's room was just across from Zylus's, nestled at the end of the corridor where noise from the front room was least likely to reach her. Nano tapped one knuckle against the wood, listening at the crack in the door.

"C'min," Lomadia mumbled from inside.

Nano slipped in, shutting the door softly behind her.

"Morning, sweetheart," she said, looking at the pile of feathers that was Lomadia. The other woman had her back to the door, lying on her side in bed. "Hope we didn't wake you being silly out there."

"You did," said Lomadia. One great wing stretched up until it brushed the ceiling. Lomadia rolled onto her stomach and stretched out the other wing, then onto her other side to face Nano. Her hair was mussed, her eyes heavy with sleep, her lips frowning.

"Sorry," said Nano. The word came out airy, because the sight of Lomadia had taken her breath away, like it always did. It certainly didn't help that she was totally nude, all strong limbs and skin and tiny feathers.

"It's okay," Lomadia said, rubbing her eyes. "I was going to get up soon anyway. It's about to get dark, isn't it?"

"Not really," said Nano. "We've got a couple hours, at least."

Lomadia groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "I never get to sleep enough," she mumbled, folding her wings over herself like a child hiding under blankets.

"Aw, I'm sorry, sweetheart," Nano said. "Should I leave you alone so you can go back to sleep?"

"No," said Lomadia, in the same pouting tone. "You should come over here and get in bed with me."

Nano did not have to be told twice. She crossed the room at speed and fairly leapt into Lomadia's bed. No sooner was she there than Lomadia's arms were around her and the two of them were kissing, breathing deep and heavy. The smell of dust and feathers and sky enveloped Nano, and she plunged into it as a child on holiday plunges into the ocean. She carded her fingers through Lomadia's hair, drawing out the tangles, her thumb brushing the soft feathers at the sides of her face. Lomadia ran a hand over Nano's head, petting the bristles of her short-cropped hair.

"I don't mind waking up for you," Lomadia murmured, just before starting in on placing a heavy necklace of kisses across Nano's collarbones. Nano wriggled with delight, snuggling up closer to her and running fingertips over her broad and muscled shoulders.

"Don't say that," Nano said, breathless and grinning. "I'll never let you sleep."

Lomadia paused only to say, "You never let me sleep anyway." And then she was back to kissing Nano, hooking a leg over her hips and closing one taloned foot around her calf. The sharp tips of the claws dimpled Nano's skin, nowhere near painful.

"Only—only half the time," Nano managed. "You'll have to take up the . . . take up the other half with your boyfriend. He says he loves you, by the way."

"Mm," said Lomadia, considering Nano critically. "Maybe I'll just keep you in here and sleep on you, so you _can't_ wake me up."

"Am I going to be your prisoner, then?" Nano inquired. Lomadia had stopped kissing her long enough that she'd managed to get her voice back and her wits about her.

"Yes," Lomadia said immediately. "I'll lock you in a tower and keep you forever."

"Oh _no,"_ Nano moaned. "Oh, whatever shall I do? Some dreadful prince will come rescue me and then I suppose I'll have to marry him or something stupid like that."

"I'll fight off all the princes," Lomadia said. "You won't have to marry anybody then. I'll rip their arms and legs and heads off."

Nano laughed, delighted, and Lomadia kissed her neck again, lingering, and Nano's whole body went soft and warm and sweet. She closed her eyes and sighed, and Lomadia laid her head next to hers on the pillow, toying with the sleeve of her tanktop.

"Lom?" Nano said.

"Mmhm?"

"I love you."

She could hear the smile in Lomadia's voice when she said, "I love you, too."

"Mm. Y'know, I think I could use a nap. Feel like sleeping, sweetheart?"

"Yes. I never get to sleep enough. But I also like being awake with you."

Nano yawned. There was the exhaustion of relieved stress hanging over her, the slouching of mind and body that came when tension, held too long, was finally released.

"Maybe we could be asleep together, for a bit," she suggested. "That's nice, too."

"It is," said Lomadia.

A few long minutes passed in warm silence. The room was dark and smelled of feathers, and though the heat of Lomadia's body verged on stifling in the already hot room, Nano remained in her arms, held close to her chest.

"Nano?" Lomadia said quietly.

"Mm?" said Nano, drawing back from the gentle darkness of sleep.

"If no princes rescue you, could you marry me?"

Her heart leapt in her chest, her skin flushed red and sweaty and her head filled with candyfloss. There was suddenly not enough air in the room, and for some reason tears were prickling at her eyes.

"I—oh," she said, her voice very soft and very stricken. "Do you—I mean, would you—is that . . . on the table?"

Lomadia shrugged one wing, shifting in the bed.

"I dunno," she said. "That's what you do with people you love. You get married."

"I'm . . . not sure it's quite that simple, sweetheart."

"Why not?"

Nano floundered for a moment, trying to find an answer that was more in-depth than just _because it's not,_ but that wouldn't sound cynical or disparaging or, worst of all, _hesitant._

"Well—well, there's you and Nilesy, for a start," she said.

"What about me and Nilesy?"

"Are you going to—I mean, would you go on dating him? Or—"

"Sure," said Lomadia. "I'd probably marry him, too."

"That's . . . actually illegal, sweetheart."

"What's illegal?"

"Being married to more than one person at a time."

"That's stupid. Why?"

"I—I think it has to do with . . . taxes?" Nano guessed. It was incredible how much the givens of the world crumbled in the face of Lomadia's perfect simplicity.

"Oh, _pfuh,"_ said Lomadia. "Those are stupid anyway. I don't care. I want to marry you both." She paused, considering. "But probably not at the same time."

Nano snorted. She rolled onto her side and pressed her forehead against Lomadia's sternum.

"Been lots of talk of weddings today," she said. "Must be something in the air."

"Who else was talking about getting married?" Lomadia asked.

"Mm. Rythian and Lalna. Sort of. I think they were mostly joking, anyways."

"Aww. That's cute."

"Sort of," Nano said, yawning again. Lomadia stroked her peach-fuzz hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I want to wear pretty dresses," she said. "When we get married. If you want to get married."

"I do," Nano mumbled sleepily. "We'll get you all the pretty dresses, sweetheart. . . ."

She drifted off to sleep with Lomadia humming contentedly in her ear.

* * *

 

Some hours later, Nano woke up again. Lomadia was already awake, watching Nano with her cheek cushioned on her hand. Nano stretched grandly and rubbed her eyes.

"Time's it?" she asked, hoping it was still before sunset so she could stay in bed with Lomadia for a while.

"Dark," said Lomadia. "But I didn't want to go while you were still sleeping."

Nano pouted at her. "Have you got to go now?" she asked.

Lomadia kissed her stuck-out lower lip. "Yes," she said.

Sighing, Nano cast her eyes to the far corner of the room. "If you must, I _suppose_ I can let you go."

"I'm the one who's kidnapped you, though," said Lomadia. "You've got to stay here and not get rescued."

"I'll do my best, sweetheart," Nano said.

Lomadia kissed her again and got out of bed. Nano watched her as she dressed—loose shorts, a vest she'd made herself that buttoned up in back. As she struggled with the vest, Nano got up and did up the buttons for her. She stood on the bed, brushed Lomadia's hair out of the way, and kissed the back of her neck.

"Good hunting, Lom," she said.

Lomadia stretched her wings wide, filling the room. She folded them again and turned around, taking Nano's hands in her own. She smiled, then kissed Nano's forehead.

"Good hunting," she said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," said Nano.

Lomadia kissed her again, then headed off, a spring in her step, her claws clicking on the faux-hardwood floor. Nano followed her out, just to stand in the doorway and watch her take off into the darkening golden sky. The air was still hot, and although there was a breeze, it merely stirred the heat around and rasped against her dry skin. Soon Lomadia was lost in the twilight, and with a sigh, Nano shut the door before she let all the cool air out.

There was, she noted, a smell of baking cookies. She followed her nose to the kitchen, where Lalna was washing up. The smell was unmistakeable in here, and the room was warm from the heat of the oven.

"Hiya, Lal," Nano said, poking her head in. "Biscuits?"

"Yes," they said, keeping their eyes on the dishes.

"What sort?"

"Snickerdoodles. I haven't attempted them previously and the name made Panda laugh when I said it."

Nano nodded. After a moment's consideration, she came into the kitchen.

"Want any help with the dishes?"

"No. You can assist with eating the biscuits, when they're done."

"I'd love to." Again, she paused. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Rythian does not want to talk to me," Lalna said. They rinsed out a large bowl and set it on the drying rack, then started on a fork covered in cinnamon-brown dough.

Nano sighed, rolling her eyes. "Rythian's a bit of a brat, Lal. I'm sure it's nothing you've done."

"I'm not worried it's something I've done."

"Then what _are_ you worried about?"

Lalna hesitated.

"He is frequently irritated," they said. They were fidgeting. "I am concerned he may be ill."

"Lalna," Nano said, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes. "Have you just _lied_ to me?"

Lalna ducked their head.

"Yes," they said.

_"Why?"_

They rinsed the fork and put it in the drying rack. They started in on the dishes that had piled up in the sink, cleaning them meticulously.

"Because I do not want to tell you the truth," they said.

Nano sighed, softening. "You _can_ just say you don't want to talk about it. That's fine, y'know. Better than lying."

"Nilesy does it frequently," Lalna said quietly.

Bristling, Nano said, "Oh, _Nilesy_ does it, does he? _Nilesy_ lies to me frequently?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "He lies to everyone. He told me so. I asked him because he lied to me and I knew that what he said what untrue. He says it is very common to lie to everyone you know. I'm very sorry. I did not mean to upset you. I will not lie to you again."

"Thank you for that, Lal. I forgive you. If it's all right with you, I think _I'm_ going to go have a little talk with Nilesy."

"You're angry with him."

"Yes, Lal, I am."

They tipped their head to the side. "Why?"

She let out a slow breath, collecting herself.

"Because he's setting a very bad example, in _addition_ to being an absolute cad. It's one thing if he's going to be a liar on his own time, but I'll not have him doing it in front of you."

"I see," said Lalna.

"Thanks for washing up, Lal," said Nano. "And for the biscuits. I'm sure Rythian'll be okay. And if you ever _do_ want to talk about what's bothering you, I'm here."

They nodded. Nano patted their arm and left the kitchen.

She went straight to Nilesy's door and rapped on it, something akin to dread worming up into her stomach.

"Oy," she called. "You still in there?"

There was a pause, and then the door opened. Nilesy leaned on the doorframe, smiling benevolently down at her. From nowhere, Lyndon appeared and slunk inside, leaning heavily against Nilesy's legs on the way by, tail lashing.

"There you are, you little pest," Nilesy said affectionately, nudging the cat with his foot. "Cottoned on it was your dinner time, did you?"

Nano cleared her throat and folded her arms. Nilesy looked up at her, politely disinterested.

"Can I help you?" he asked, impertinent.

"I wanted to talk," she said.

"Seems you've got the hang of it already," he said, gesturing to her face. "Don't know what you need _my_ help for."

"Hilarious," she intoned. "It's about Lalna."

"Isn't it always," said Nilesy, grinning. "You don't ever come to talk to me about _my_ day. I'm starting to think you don't love me as much as them, half-mum."

"Would you quit it?" she snapped. "I'm being serious."

"That sounds like a personal problem."

"What have you been teaching them? And don't give me any of that _dick size_ bullshit, either."

He pressed a hand to his heart, his face the very picture of wounded innocence.

"Why, Nano, anyone'd think you don't trust me," he said.

"I don't. If they didn't like you so much, I'd see to it the two of you never saw each other at all."

"Oh, now that's hardly fair, why would you want to go and do a thing like that?"

"You're a bad influence on them."

_"Am_ I?" he said, delighted. "Next thing you know, they'll be smoking and wearing leather jackets and riding a motorbike. D'you think they make drugs for androids? Otherwise I'm not sure I'll be able to be _that_ bad of an influence. I'll give it a good fucking try, though, if you like."

"Can you just be serious for _five minutes?"_ she demanded.

"Mm, no," he said, considering the ceiling. "Best I can give you is two."

"Okay, can you be serious for _two_ minutes? Starting _right now?"_

The smile fell off his face, and something cold crept into his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Clock's ticking."

Nano took a deep breath and let it out again.

"I know you mean well," she said. "Teaching Lalna to lie, and keep secrets, and all that. But . . . it makes me nervous. There's a fine line between them and—and—"

"And what they were programmed to be?" Nilesy inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No—well—sort of," said Nano, deeply uncomfortable. "Just . . . they're still so young, and impressionable, and just . . . when you're hanging about with them, don't . . . forget that."

"Oh, no," he said. "I don't _ever_ forget what they were meant to be. But I don't think learning how to lie is going to make them into a soulless murder-machine anytime soon. And, if it did, I'd think you'd want me on the front lines anyway."

"Don't get full of yourself," she snapped.

"I've killed them once, I could do it again if I had to."

"They're your _sibling!"_ Nano cried, horrified.

"And Xephos was my dad," Nilesy said, his face blank, his eyes glittering. "I don't see your point."

All the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She took a half step back from him, trying not to let her nerves show on her face.

"I'm not . . . worried about them . . . reverting to type, or whatever," she said. "I just don't want them to end up like—" She broke off, biting her lip and wincing.

Nilesy did not waver. "Like me?" he said softly, his head tipping to the side.

"N-no," she said. "I didn't—I didn't say that, I wasn't going to say that."

"Oh, my mistake," he said, and now she could hear the edge in his voice, creeping up razor-sharp from the backs of his teeth. "What _were_ you going to say, then?"

"Look, it's just—I just—be _careful,_ all right? Be _careful_ with them, that's all I'm asking."

He smiled, and there was something of pain in the expression.

"Believe me, Nano," he said. "The very last thing I want in this world is for _anybody_ to end up like me."

She folded her arms and shrugged, not looking at him. "Right, well, good. Glad we've got that cleared up." She hesitated, then asked, "Are you . . . okay?"

The smile split open into a starry grin, and he leaned his head against the doorframe.

"Sorry, your two minutes are up," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to feed my cat and get ready for my job selling drugs to children. Ta~!"

With a wink, he shut the door in her face.

* * *

 

It was only a few minutes later that Nano heard the oven buzz. By then the house was filled with the smell of cookies, which was the main reason why she hadn't gone back to her room. She headed for the kitchen, but Panda beat her there, darting out of his room at speed and sticking to one of the dining chairs like he was magnetized. His eyepatch had a silver skull-and-crossbones printed on it. He folded his hands neatly on the table and grinned up at Lalna.

"Are they ready?" he asked.

Lalna took the cookies out of the oven with their bare hands. Nano flinched, even though Lalna had assured her multiple times that their skin could easily withstand the heat and their neural sensitivity could be turned down to almost nil. It just _looked_ painful.

"They have to cool," Lalna said. "Otherwise you'll burn your mouth. Their temperature is still above two hundred degrees centigrade. Prolonged contact with a surface above forty-four degrees can cause burns."

_"Ugh,"_ said Panda, letting his head loll back. "How long's that going to take?"

"With radiative and convective cooling in effect—"

"No math! _No. Math._ Don't you math at me."

Lalna pouted. "It will be approximately ten minutes," they said.

_"Seriously?_ Aw, can't you make them go any faster? I've already bolused, if I don't get biscuits soon, I'll crash."

"I'm sorry," Lalna said. They considered for a moment, their eyes shifting to a dim orange before brightening again. "If we placed them in the freezer, this would accelerate their cooling significantly."

"Really? Super! You're a genius, Lal."

"Yes," said Lalna. While they busied themselves figuring out a way to get the cookies into the freezer, Nano came and sat down at the table across from Panda.

"Hope you're not going to eat _all_ those biscuits," she said, nudging his shin with her toe.

"Just half," said Panda. "Lal even calculated how much insulin I'd need. They're a _genius._ I'm never letting you have them back. I wish I could carry them about in my pocket to do all my math for me."

Lalna's head tipped to the side. "That isn't currently possible," they said. "I could work on a solution, however, if—"

"No, Lal, don't worry about it," Nano said. "Panda's perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

"Just because I _can_ doesn't mean I should _have_ to," Panda replied. "You've got a pancreas that does all your calculating and dosing and bullshit. I think I should have a pocket-Lal, since I haven't got a pancreas that works. It's only fair."

"Your _pancreas_ works, otherwise you'd have to be taking digestive enzymes. It's the beta cells _in_ your pancreas that're dead."

"Oh _la di da,_ look at me, I'm Nano and I know more about Panda's diabetes than he does."

"You can have a pocket-Lal when you can afford to pay them for labor," Nano said.

"Bullshit, they don't mind doing it for free. _Do_ you, Lal?"

"I like to be useful," Lalna said.

"I can see we're going to have to have a chat about negotiating for wages, too," Nano said dryly. "Before you start working _anywhere."_

"You're getting a job?" Panda asked, sitting up straighter.

"I'm attempting," said Lalna. Nano wasn't sure what they'd done with the cookies, but the baking sheet was empty now, and as she watched, they put it in the sink and started washing it. The water from the faucet hit it and sent up a cloud of steam.

"Super! Where're you working?"

"I'm not, currently."

"Okay, where are you _going_ to be working?"

"It's not certain that I'll be working anywhere."

Panda rolled his eyes so vehemently that it rolled his whole head. "Where are you _applying_ to work?"

"Sunrise Diagnostics," said Lalna. "Their primary focus is on routine medical testing and analysis, including services for—"

"Cool," said Panda. "How long 'til those biscuits are ready? I'm dropping like a fucking _rock."_

"Approximately three minutes," said Lalna. "If that's not soon enough, I can adjust my calculations to allow for a juice box. It'll mean fewer biscuits."

"Oh, _fine,"_ Panda sighed, getting up again and going to the refrigerator. "Thanks, Lal. Nano, I guess you can have a bit more than half the biscuits. Or you and Niles and Rythian can split them, or something."

"You know," Nano said slyly, "I might just forget to mention the biscuits to anybody else."

"You're horrible," Panda said approvingly.

"I find it very rewarding to be horrible," Nano said.

"Yeah? How so?"

"Well, for one thing, there's biscuits."

 


	4. Chapter 3

Rythian _fumed._

It wasn't like Nilesy always won these little verbal exchanges. It probably would have been easier to bear if he did. As it was, he was just a lot less sore of a loser than Rythian, which made victories hollow and defeat infinitely more frustrating. He _shouldn't_ be this upset. He _shouldn't_ be this sparkingly angry. It was stupid and petty and ultimately meaningless and it made him absolutely _furious_ that he couldn't just let it _go._

He was pacing his room, sparks tickling up the space between his arms and his sides. The floor was cool under his bare feet and the air was still too hot, even with the air conditioner running as high as they could afford. His skin was grimy with dried sweat, but if he got into a shower in his current mood he'd probably short-circuit the whole duplex. If he hadn't just been out for a walk, he'd go walk his fury off, disperse this prickling energy a little at a time instead of breaking something.

He nabbed the water bottle by his bed and took it to the adjoining bathroom. He filled it up, wrapping a dry washcloth around his hand so he could turn the sink on without transferring current to it, and drained the bottle in one long chug. He filled it back up and glared at himself in the mirror before stalking out again. His nose was already starting to peel from the blistering sun. It was just one more bullet point tacked on to the tail end of his anger.

Rythian threw himself onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, bouncing his foot. He got back up again and started pacing his room, taking gulps out of his water bottle until his stomach was swollen and he had to put it down for later.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself. "Stupid little—piece of shit. _Does he still do that, or was it just me?_ Not something to fucking _brag_ about. Stupid—smug—fucking—goddamn—"

He kicked his bed, making it clunk against the wall. He managed not to stub his toe on it, but the ball of his foot still smarted from the impact.

"And I _don't,"_ he snarled, glaring at the door as though he could see Nilesy's face in it. "Not like it matters. But I _don't._ Just crying because you—suck. At sex. And it's tragic. Fuck you. Shut up."

Rythian folded his arms and turned his back on the door, flushed and agitated and definitely _not_ thinking about sex with Nilesy. A single spark leapt through his lung and he flinched, but he made no move for the mask sitting on his desk. He relished the pain. Even if he couldn't throttle Nilesy like he wanted, he could at least hurt _something,_ even if it was just himself.

"Does it on purpose," he said. "And _I_ always get in fucking trouble. Like she's my mother or something. Fuck off. He fucking _started_ it. Stupid— _stupid_ people!"

His room did not offer any commentary. He kicked his bed again for good measure. This time he _did_ stub his toe.

Lacking further fuel, and in the absence of stimulus, his anger was starting to fizzle. It was always much easier to be angry with Nilesy when he was in the room, at least partially because he provoked Rythian at every opportunity. It was, Rythian thought, much like being a tiger in a zoo, besieged by some snot-nosed brat with a long stick. And, of course, it was always the tiger who was punished for snapping at the child.

"Because _poor fragile little Nilesy,"_ Rythian grumbled, sitting on the floor and rubbing his stubbed toe. "Bullshit. Spoiled fucking rotten. Gets away with fucking _everything_ just because he's not _killing_ people anymore. Bull _shit."_

He'd cracked his toenail, and now his hands were dirty from touching the feet that had walked for an hour barefoot on the filthy Vegas sidewalks. Itching with frustration, Rythian went back into the bathroom and cleaned his hands with a damp washcloth, still muttering to himself.

"Maybe _I'll_ start killing people. Free pass for everything else afterwards. Fucking bullshit. Not like I _care._ Not like it _matters._ Goddamn Nilesy and his goddamn smug stupid face. . . ."

Goddamn Nilesy who still sometimes woke screaming in the night, goddamn Nilesy who still drowned himself in the bathtub with alarming regularity, goddamn Nilesy whose voice still deserted him in times of stress, goddamn Nilesy who'd been spending more and more nights alone. . . .

Rythian shook himself. That wasn't the _point._ That had nothing to do with anything. He tried to catch hold of the trailing edges of his rage, but it had gone somehow, chilled to sobriety like a drunk flung into a walk-in freezer. He left the bathroom and stood in the center of his room, at a loss. He couldn't very well go back to the other side of the duplex—Nilesy would still be there, and there was no possibility he wouldn't gloat incessantly. Lalna was there, too, and would undoubtedly be trying to understand, while Nano would be laughing into her hand.

With a sigh, Rythian sat down on his floor and stuck a hand under his bed. His fingers found the worn cardboard box with ease, and from the mess he pulled a cheap magician's starter kit, complete with cards, trick rings, and written instructions. Nano had gotten it for him for his birthday, and there had hardly been a day since when he hadn't put at least an hour's effort into it. He wasn't sure how good he'd gotten, but someday soon he was going to actually show some of the tricks to Lalna. Soon. As soon as he was ready.

It was easy to get engrossed in it. He'd found that he very much enjoyed working with his hands, enjoyed the dexterity and the cleverness of the tricks, although he was still lacking in showmanship. He was saving up to go see a real magic show, which there was no paucity of in Vegas. He saw the billboards frequently on his walks. He wondered how many of the magicians were actually Powered, especially the ones who claimed to be able to do things like read minds and levitate. He wondered if the audiences would have even cared.

Rythian spent more than an hour wrapped up in his magic, working at a card trick that had been giving him trouble for weeks. It was all a matter of practice—get his fingers to move _just_ so, keep his focus _just_ right while seeming to pay no attention at all, casually lead the eye away and never let the palm of his left hand be seen. . . .

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Go away," Rythian snapped, not raising his eyes from his cards. He _almost_ had it, he was in a groove, just a few more minutes and he'd have it for sure. . . .

"Okay," said Lalna, disappointed.

Rythian cursed under his breath and scrambled to his feet, abandoning the cards. He hurried to the door and yanked it open.

"Lalna, wait," he said. A short distance down the hallway, Lalna paused. They turned to look at him, and their eyes were a dark purple.

"You told me to go away," they said. "So I am going away now."

"I didn't—I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," Rythian said. "It's just that—what I mean is, you can come in, if you want."

Lalna tipped their head to the side and frowned.

"Okay," they said. They came back down the corridor, and Rythian stood aside so they could come in. He shut the door behind them. They stood in the middle of the room, tapping their thumbs together.

"What . . . did you want?" Rythian asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. Lalna had been getting better at identifying emotions over the past ten months, especially Rythian's.

"Nilesy upset you," Lalna said. "I wanted—"

Rythian made a disgusted noise and stalked back over to his dinky magician's kit, dropping onto the ground next to it in a huff.

"Whatever," he said. "It's not a big deal."

"You're still upset," Lalna observed.

"No, I'm . . . _annoyed,"_ Rythian said, shuffling his deck of cards rapidly. "Because he's _annoying._ It doesn't matter."

"If it doesn't matter, why're you upset?"

_"Annoyed."_

"Why are you annoyed?"

"Because you won't shut up about goddamn fucking Nilesy," Rythian snapped. A spark leapt through his lung and made him wince.

There was a moment of quiet, filled with the insect-wing fluttering of the cards.

"Oh," said Lalna. "I'm sorry."

Rythian sighed, putting the cards down and taking his mask down off the desk. He put it on and breathed deeply, keeping his eyes closed.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," he said. "I didn't . . . mean to snap. It's not your fault."

"Rythian?"

"Yes, Lalna?"

"I would like to ask you a question, but I am worried it will annoy you further, because it is about Nilesy."

"What _is_ it with you and Nilesy? All the fucking time, all you fucking talk about is fucking _Nilesy."_

"It has already annoyed you further," Lalna said dismally.

"Then you might as well ask whatever you're going to ask, while I'm already annoyed. Go ahead, what about _Nilesy?"_

Lalna hesitated, then made the sound of a deep breath.

"I do not understand why you hate him so much," they said. "Especially in consideration of the fact that you were dating him eight months ago. I do not know what changed and I cannot account for the radical alteration in your behavior. It concerns me. I am concerned that one day you will suddenly hate me and I will not know why."

Rythian took a couple of slow breaths, biting his lip, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn't do it. There was an anger in him that would not be calmed, sizzling at the undersides of his lungs.

_Because I don't know which of you looks like the other,_ he wanted to say. _Because I don't know who I loved first and I don't know who was just a substitute, but I can't let you think that you were a stand-in and I_ _can't_ _let you think that I_ _replaced_ _you and I couldn't lose you again so I had to lose him instead. . . ._

"That won't happen," was all he said.

Lalna tipped their head to the side. Their eyes were a pale, worried purple. "Are circumstances different?"

"Yes," Rythian said, not without a fair amount of relief. "Very different. Just—trust me, Lalna. I'm not going to suddenly start hating you. Ever. For any reason."

Lalna nodded. "Okay," they said. "I trust you."

For a moment, there was silence. There was something pale and slimy in Rythian's stomach, driving him to squirm. He picked the cards back up and started shuffling them again, keeping his eyes down, chewing his lips behind the respirator.

"Was that it?" he asked. He could feel Lalna's eyes on him, like they were trying to peer through his head to see what was inside.

"I don't have other questions prepared," they said. "I could think of some, if you want. I mostly came to attempt to help you be less upset."

"Well, I'm less upset now, thank you," said Rythian. "You don't have to stay."

There was another silence, like fingernails against Rythian's bones.

"Are you doing magic?" Lalna asked.

_"Lalna—"_ Rythian began sharply, and stopped himself. He took a breath and let it out again. "I would like to be alone, please."

"Oh," said Lalna. "I see. I am sorry to have bothered you."

They left, shutting the door quietly behind them. Rythian threw the cards down and buried his face in his hands, resisting the urge to punch himself until he bruised.

"Everything I fucking touch," he muttered, and there was the thickness of oncoming tears in the words.

* * *

 

It was one of those sleepless nights, Rythian could already tell. He'd practiced his magic tricks until his fingers were sore and his head was aching, foraged something to eat from the refrigerator and caught an episode of some mindless children's cartoon. There had been quiet talking from next door and the faint smell of cookies, but he'd kept to this side of the duplex anyway, unwilling to face Lalna and especially unwilling to risk running into Nilesy. He'd commandeered the bathroom for half an hour to wipe the grime off his skin with a damp washcloth, since he was still too agitated to take a shower, then locked himself in his room. He'd lain awake for hours, tossing and turning while his mind dredged up snippets of conversation to shame him.

Eventually, sometime after midnight, he'd gotten up, changed into his swimsuit, and snuck out.

The duplex was located in a little neighborhood of similar housing, branded under some insipid and meaningless name. There was, however, a community pool. Ostensibly, it closed at midnight, but Rythian had climbed the rickety fence more times than he could count for late-night swims when there was sure to be no one else about. There was something luxurious, something enticingly _naughty_ about submerging himself in clear water, out in public under the open sky, something thrilling in the danger. He'd learned to swim before his Powers had started manifesting, so although he was terribly out of practice, he was in no danger of drowning.

Back and forth he would go, from one end of the pool to the other, and when he got tired he would float on his back (as best he could—he didn't float very well) and pick out faint stars from the grimy sky overhead.

Tonight was no different. He swam until he was exhausted, letting the water rinse all the anger from him. He'd left his respirator next to the pool, although the wet air just above the water made his lungs and sinuses prickle with electricity. When he could swim no more, he lay back, kicking his feet and wafting his hands through the water to stay afloat. The chlorine stung his eyes and the moon was blurred with smog, but there was a sort of peace in it, a comfortable kind of emptiness.

Eventually, it was the pain in his lungs that drove him to move. He got himself upright and waded his way to the side of the pool. Rythian heaved himself out of the water, his wet skin fizzling in the dry air, and pulled his respirator back on. He shook himself rather like a dog and started over towards the reclining plastic pool chairs to dry off before he went back inside.

Nilesy was standing a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, watching him.

Rythian's heart leapt into his throat, and his whole body clenched up. He tightened his jaw and strengthened his resolve and spoke as calmly as he could.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Nilesy's head tipped to the side, and his mouth curled into a little half smile. His eyes glittered in the streetlamp darkness.

"Just making sure no one hopped in while you were in there," he said. "That'd be a rather nasty shock for everyone involved, eh?"

Rythian glared at him, digging his fingernails into his palms. Nilesy raised his eyebrows.

_"Eh?"_ he prompted. "Come on, it was a good one, you know it."

When he was met with continued silence, Nilesy rolled his eyes and adopted an expression of insolence.

"Fuck you, I'm hilarious," he said.

"What," Rythian said, seething, "do you _want?"_

"Maybe I don't want _anything,"_ Nilesy said, meeting Rythian's eyes. "Had you ever considered that? Maybe I don't want anything from you at all."

"Then what are you still doing here?" he demanded.

Nilesy grinned. "Never _said_ I didn't want anything," he said. "Just wondering if you'd ever considered the possibility that I didn't."

Rythian took a quick step towards him, and something behind him sloshed ominously. He froze, his heart skipping a beat. Nilesy's grin grew considerably less friendly.

"Now, now, Rythian," he purred. "Let's not get hasty. We're in public, after all. No telling who could walk out here and see."

"You're not _nearly_ as funny as you think you are," Rythian said. His fingernails were biting into the bones in his hands, and the way Nilesy was looking at him was burning him up.

"Who said anything about being funny? I'm only looking out for you. I know how you like to keep things quiet."

Rythian took a sharp breath, intending to retort, and then thought better of it. He stalked to the chair farthest from Nilesy, up against the pool shed, and threw himself into it. After a moment, Nilesy came over and sat in the chair next to his. Above, the moon glowed bright and silver, alone in a sky smogged with neon lights. In the distance, there was a pillar of white light, flung from the black pyramid on the Strip, a giant beacon cast blindly into the sky. There was a crinkling noise, and then something landed on Rythian's stomach, making him jump.

"Brought you a snack," Nilesy said, opening a bag of crisps. "I know how swimming makes a person hungry."

Rythian threw the bag back at Nilesy, hitting him in the head. Nilesy barely even blinked. Placidly, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs at the ankles, and started eating his crisps, eyes fixed on the moon above them.

After a moment of quiet crunching, Rythian snatched the unopened bag off the ground and ripped it open, because he _was_ actually starving.

"Thanks," he grumbled.

"Don't mention it!" Nilesy said brightly.

When Rythian had polished off the crisps, tilting the bag back and pouring the crumbs into his mouth, he crumpled up the bag, resettled his respirator on his face, and folded his hands on his stomach. His skin was mostly dry, but his hair and bathing suit were still damp, cool in the hot night air.

"So what do you want?" Rythian asked at last.

Nilesy sighed. "Does it matter?" he said, all the levity gone from his voice.

"Maybe," said Rythian.

"Fine," said Nilesy. "I wanted to . . . apologize. For being a cad to you in front of Lalna. I went too far and I'm sorry."

"I don't care," Rythian snapped, sparks crackling through his wet hair. Just like that, he was burning with shame from the exchange again, boiling with impotent rage.

"Oh, no?" said Nilesy, looking over at him, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. "Well, that's all right then. Honestly, though— _is_ it just me, or—"

Rythian had him by the shirt before he could finish the sentence, hauled him up out of his chair and slammed him against the pool shed hard enough to knock his breath out.

"One more fucking word," he said, shaking all over.

Nilesy grinned at him, holding his gaze, though he spoke in a wheeze. "Bit early for this, isn't it? It's only been a month. Anyone'd think you were taking a shine to me."

"Shut. Up," Rythian said, his body wound tight as a cable on a suspension bridge, the eye-contact winding him tighter all the time, until his head pounded and his breath came short.

_"Make me,"_ Nilesy breathed.

Rythian grabbed him by the throat and yanked the respirator off and kissed him hard enough to bruise his lips. Nilesy let out a quiet, truncated moan and grabbed Rythian's hair, clutching him tightly, arching his back to press against him. Rythian's other hand slid under Nilesy's shirt, aching for the touch of hot skin, digging fingernails into supple flesh while the respirator dangled from his wrist. His lips found Nilesy's neck and his teeth sank in, and he relinquished his hold on Nilesy's throat to clutch his thigh, pressing him back into the wall and hauling him closer.

"Indoors, _in-_ doors," Nilesy gasped, pushing weakly at Rythian's chest. "You kinky sod, someone'll see."

"I don't care," Rythian said, dizzy, his lips tingling, aching for more, more, _more._

"Could be Lalna."

There was only a moment's indecision before Rythian shoved himself off of Nilesy and started back towards the duplex, keyed up and worn thin and half out of his mind.

"You sure you want me to come with you?" Nilesy inquired from behind him.

"I don't care," Rythian said again, his voice shaking.

"If you say so," said Nilesy, and followed him back to the duplex and all the way into bed.

 


	5. Chapter 4

It was late, dark and quiet and hot. Nilesy was lying in Rythian's arms, exhausted and half-asleep, Rythian's breath ghosting against the back of his neck. They'd thrown all the covers on the floor, which was all right, because he'd have to wash his sheets in the morning anyway. They always used Nilesy's room for these trysts, so that Rythian could simply leave in the morning rather than wasting words on kicking Nilesy out.

There was a shifting of weight, a quiet rustle, and Rythian kissed his neck. Something between a sigh and a moan fluttered out through Nilesy's lips, and he rolled his eyes.

"Christ's sake, don't you ever get _tired?"_ he asked, his voice hoarse.

"I hardly ever get to have you," Rythian murmured, trailing his fingers down Nilesy's chest. They thoroughly avoided the burn scar above his heart. "I'm not going to waste it sleeping." He went right back to kissing his neck, pressing against his back.

"It hasn't— _got_ to be so . . . infrequent, y'know," Nilesy said. He was already slipping, because it was so easy to let Rythian use him like this. The man was uncannily adept at unraveling him.

Rythian wrapped a hand around Nilesy's throat, not squeezing, and all the words fell out of his head. He sighed, closing his eyes while Rythian nipped at the fresh bruises on his neck. Still, there was a sourness in his stomach, and he took Rythian's wrist before his hand could get much farther than his hip. Rythian stopped, his lips at the junction of neck and shoulder. He left his hand around Nilesy's throat, though, so it took Nilesy some time to gather himself enough to speak.

"You're _sure_ Lalna's all right with this?" he whispered.

"I told you not to talk about Lalna," Rythian said, annoyed.

"Rythian—"

"Yes. I'm sure. Drop it."

"Then why—take your fucking hand off my throat—"

Rythian let his hand drop back to the bedsheets, and Nilesy could breathe again, less scattered, less distant, less _easy._

"Why're you _doing_ this?" Nilesy asked, his voice coming out more pained than he'd intended. "Why's it got to be like this?"

Rythian was quiet for some time, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on Nilesy's neck and collarbones. The sensation was driving him crazy, making him burn for further contact, for lips and teeth and fingertips. There was a whine in his throat that he had to bite back while he waited for an answer he wasn't even sure he wanted.

"I can't—" Rythian began, and stopped. He continued, softly, "I already ask them for too much. I can't . . . ask for this, too."

_"This_ what?" Nilesy asked. He felt Rythian stiffen against him, his breathing grow short and sharp.

"Forget it," he said, his voice gone flat.

"Rythian—"

"Are you going to drop it, or should I just leave?" Rythian interrupted.

Nilesy sighed, conceding.

"No," he said. "Carry on."

Rythian did, and Nilesy gave himself over to sensation.

* * *

 

He was woken by a jostling of the bed. Groggy, he lifted his head, looking back over his shoulder. Rythian was dressing, his eyes on the floor, his jaw clenched.

"Morning," Nilesy said anyway. His throat was sore, his voice hoarse. His neck ached from the bruises Rythian had daubed there, like a clumsy painter with a fresh canvas.

Rythian did not respond. He smoothed his hair back, still not looking at Nilesy. There were no bruises on him, as per request, but he moved as though he was covered in them, swollen taut and tender. All he wore was his swim trunks from the night before and a spare t-shirt they kept in Nilesy's closet for these occasions, and he looked as though he was trying to hide inside his clothes like a turtle in its shell. He went to the door, keeping his eyes down and his shoulders hunched.

"I love you," Nilesy said softly.

Rythian froze, just for a moment, tensing as though the words had been a gunshot.

His only response was to open the door and walk out without so much as a second glance. He shut it quietly behind himself.

Nilesy let his head drop back onto the pillow. He was still exhausted, hollowed out and sore. He lay staring at his own hands, a dull ache in his chest.

He somehow managed to drag himself out of bed to shower and change his sheets, and immediately after he got right back in bed, passing the hours by wishing he was dead.

* * *

 

Gray dawn turned golden, and Nilesy drifted along the shoreline of consciousness, half-formed dreams haunting the underside of his mind. Distantly, he could hear movement about the house, voices and footsteps and the whistle of a kettle. They mingled with the sounds of his dreams, which lapped over his ears in erratic waves of rushing white-noise. There were voices under the surface, indiscernible. Somewhere far beneath, there was fire, and drowning darkness, and a cold white room and the smell of blood. Each time he sank out of consciousness, he plunged closer to them, until he could feel the nightmare fear tingling at the tips of his toes.

There was a sudden weight on the bed, lighter than a person but heavy enough to jiggle the springs. There was a delicate snuffling noise, and then a cold nose prodded him in the cheek and a sandpaper tongue started licking the inside of his ear.

"Not the ear, _not the ear!"_ he grumbled, shoving the cat off and rolling onto his back. Lyndon, tail swishing regally, climbed up onto his chest, turned around three times, and nestled down, purring like an outboard motor, his eyes squinted closed. Nilesy kissed him on the nose.

"Who let you in here, then?" he asked, scratching the cat behind the ears.

The tip of Lyndon's tail twitched, and he cracked open one tawny eye. Nilesy tickled his cheek with a finger and the eye closed again. The steady vibration of the purring on his chest was uncoiling the tension in him, slowly but steadily.

"Unless you've been in here all along," Nilesy mused. "Been spying on me, have you? Naughty little thing. Someone must've fed you anyway, despite the fact you're naughty. Which means you can't've been in here all night. Which means _somebody_ must've let you in."

Lyndon's ears flicked back, and he kneaded Nilesy's chest ever so gently with his claws. Nilesy kissed his nose again.

"Trust the Nilesinator, world's greatest detective, to get to the bottom of things," Nilesy said. "So who's let you in? Could they be standing in the corridor, listening to me talk to myself like a crazy person?"

There was a moment's pause, and then the door cracked open and Lomadia poked her head in.

"You're not a crazy person," she said.

"I am a bit, dear," Nilesy said. "You can come in if you like."

She slipped in, pushing the door closed behind her with a wing. She came over and sat on the side of his bed. Lyndon opened an eye and glared at her, his tail lashing. She touched the bruises on Nilesy's neck with the backs of two fingers and a shiver ran up his spine.

"Panda must've had a bad day," she remarked, tipping her head back and forth as she examined him. Nilesy sighed. Lyndon dug his claws in, putting his ears back.

"Wasn't Panda, dear," Nilesy said.

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Who was it, then?"

"Rythian."

"Oh. That makes sense. He always does lots of them."

"That he does."

"Is that why you're sulking in bed still? Because of Rythian?"

"I'm not _sulking,"_ Nilesy said. Lyndon bristled and dug his claws in a little deeper. One of them was pricking the tender flesh of the burn scar on his chest, the ropey print of Rythian's hand laid forever over his heart.

"You are though," said Lomadia. "That's why I let your cat in."

Nilesy made a face, rubbing Lyndon's cheek until his eyes squinted closed and his ears came forward again.

"Thank you, dear," he said.

"We can talk about something else now, if you want."

"I would love to, yes."

"Okay. What d'you want to talk about?"

Nilesy looked up at her, still absently petting the cat. She looked back down at him, eyes bright and curious, head at an angle, her short hair tickling her eyebrows. The gold light of morning was lighting up her wings through the gaps in the blinds, haloing her. Even under the weight of Rythian's handprint, his heart learned how to beat again.

"How was work?" he asked.

"It was okay," she said. "There were eight fights."

_"Eight fights?"_ Nilesy exclaimed. Lyndon smacked him in the ribs with his tail. "My goodness! What for?"

"Mostly nothing," said Lomadia, her wings fluffing up. She brushed her hair off her forehead and it immediately fell back again. "Stupid people being stupid. And drunk. They're always drunk."

"Yeah? Well I can see how that'd lead to fighting. Have to get involved in anything, or was it all just gargoyling?"

"I'm not a gargoyle," Lomadia said.

"You're right, you're far too lovely."

"I guess. I didn't have to come down all night, though. I think people know I'm there and they're scared of me."

_"Are_ they? Fantastic!"

She nodded and started petting his hair. If he could have purred, he would have.

"Sometimes I fly about a bit to stretch my wings. Sometimes people see me. I think it only scares them if they're thinking about doing bad stuff."

"Got a reputation, have you?" Nilesy asked. "That's upward mobility, that is."

"It's boring," Lomadia said, pulling a face. "Nobody ever does anything anymore."

"Aww, I'm sorry, dear. Should I go stir up some trouble for you, so you'll have something to do?"

_"No,_ because then it'll be you I've got to catch."

"Oh, but it'll be such a grand production. You can snatch me right up off the street, I promise I'll scream bloody fucking murder and wiggle lots. It'll scare the living _daylights_ out of people, come on, it'll be grand."

"You're silly," said Lomadia.

"Incessantly, dear," he said, grinning.

_"In-sess-ant-ly?"_

"All the time. Without stopping. Constantly."

"In-cessantly," Lomadia said again. "You're not, though. Silly all the time."

"Not for lack of trying. I like me much better when I'm being silly."

She kissed him, stealing his breath. Lyndon lashed his tail again, although he made no move to get off of Nilesy's chest. Nilesy touched Lomadia's cheek with two fingers, tracing the line of her jaw.

"You've got to get up now," she said.

"Have I? Why?"

"Because it's time for me to go to sleep," said Lomadia. "And you can't stay in bed all day."

"That's a stupid rule, who came up with that rule?"

"Nano and Zylus did."

"Oh, well that explains everything. What if I just change beds, mine to yours?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You've got to eat and stuff."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"If you don't get out of bed I'll pick you up and carry you out."

"Don't, dear, I'm not sure poor Nano would ever recover."

"Then you've got to get out of bed."

"There's a _cat_ on me, I _can't._ You wouldn't make me move my poor little kitty, would you? He's only _just_ settled down."

Lomadia picked up Lyndon and put him on the floor. He only left very shallow scratches on Nilesy's chest as he tried halfheartedly to cling on. Immediately, he began washing himself, as though the touch of Lomadia's hands was an affront to his dignity and cleanliness.

"Now there's not," Lomadia said. "Up."

Nilesy sighed and rolled his eyes. He sat up just far enough to kiss her, propping himself up on his elbow and resting his wrist on her shoulder. She touched his neck again, making him shiver.

Then she picked him up by the armpits and set him on his feet outside the bed like a mother would a recalcitrant child. He immediately spun on his heel and collapsed into her lap, as though his legs wouldn't hold him.

"I _can't,"_ he moaned, draping himself back against her, his head on her shoulder. "It's no use, I'm afraid you'll just have to leave me."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his temple.

"Stop being silly," she said. "You're being a bother now."

"Oh, all _right,"_ he sighed. He kissed her ear, but made no move to get up. Likewise, she made no move to force him to.

"I love you a lot," she said, after a brief silence.

"I love you, too, Lom," he said. He toyed with the hair at the back of her neck and kissed the corner of her jaw.

"Nilesy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You won't mind if I marry Nano, will you?"

Nilesy considered this. Something secret and bottomless was filling up his bones with brine. He kissed the corner of her jaw again.

"Not if I get to be the flower girl," he said.

"I'm being _serious."_

"So am I!" he said, grinning. The expression floated, flimsy, on something much colder. There was a hole in his stomach, gushing full of icy water.

"Mmm, okay," said Lomadia. "You can be the flower girl. But you've got to get up and eat something now, so I can go to sleep."

"Yes dear," he said, and extracted himself from her lap.

When she had gone, the smile dropped off his face, sliding into the churning cold beneath. He dressed and combed his hair and brushed his teeth and put the cat out of his room. He locked his door.

He did not take the mask out from under the bed, but he could feel it watching him.

* * *

 

The day passed uneventfully, if tensely. It being Saturday, nearly everyone had the day off. He made a brief call to his employer to let them know he wouldn't be working that night—he was far too scattered, far too hollow to be out and about anytime soon. As he hung up, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, there was a soft knock at his door.

"Hey," Panda said, hovering in his doorway. He had Lyndon in his arms, and the cat was purring up a storm. He was wearing his rainbow eyepatch, and had done his nails to match. "What was all that about?"

"Taking the night off," Nilesy said, setting his phone back on his desk. "I figured since Zylus and Lom have got the night off I might as well stay home, too."

"Yeah? All right," said Panda. Lyndon wriggled, and Panda put him down before he got scratched. "Can I come in for a bit?"

"Of course, dear," said Nilesy. "Something up?"

"Not really," said Panda. He came in and nudged the door closed. Lyndon sauntered over and climbed into Nilesy's lap like he owned the place. "Honestly, I don't see how you keep a job with hickeys all over you half the time."

"You don't know," Nilesy said, grinning. "Maybe they're a point in my favor."

"For what, prostitution?"

Nilesy's jaw and fists clenched and a pit opened up in his stomach. He smiled tightly.

"Panda, be a dear and please don't ever imply any polyamorous person is a whore ever again," he said.

"I didn't—oh," said Panda. He looked away and bit his lip. "Sorry, I wasn't . . . I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Thank you, dear," said Nilesy. He scratched Lyndon behind the ears, taking slow, deep breaths to uncoil himself. Panda came over and sat down next to him.

"Rythian really did a number on you, huh," he said quietly.

"Always does," said Nilesy. The pit in his stomach was filling up with guilt. "I'm . . . sorry. For what it's worth. I would've said something but it was all rather sudden and—"

"It's fine," said Panda. "Well, no, it's _not_ fine, but not because—whatever. You've been in bed all day and you're skipping work and _that's_ why it's not fine. Because it's making you miserable."

"It's not so bad as all that," said Nilesy, although it was.

"It's pretty fucking bad, Niles," Panda said. "I don't _get_ it. I don't get why you let him— _use_ you like this, it's infuriating!"

"Come now, Panda, nobody's using anybody else. We've got an arrangement. It's not an issue."

"I just . . . _why?"_ Panda asked. "Why're you _doing_ this?"

Nilesy sighed, looking down at Lyndon purring away in his lap.

"I'd say _because I love him,_ but I don't think that's true," he said. "I think if I loved him, I wouldn't let him do this to himself. So . . . selfishness, mainly. I miss him terribly and sometimes I get to have him back and it's not worth it and I do it anyway."

He clamped his mouth shut, his neck and face hot with shame. He bent his head and kissed Lyndon between the ears. The cat slapped him in the knee with his tail.

"Niles," Panda said quietly.

"D'you mind if we drop this, dear?" Nilesy said, his voice trembling through the false levity he slathered on it. "Only I know you don't like talking about me and Rythian and at the moment, ahahah, neither do I."

Panda said nothing for a moment, then looped an arm around Nilesy's shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"For whatever it's worth, I forgive you," he said. "I don't think you've done anything wrong, but since you apologized, I think maybe you need to hear it anyway."

"Thank you, dear," said Nilesy.

Panda's fingers tickled his neck, and some of the sickness went out of his stomach.

"Y'know, _since_ you've already got them," Panda said, regarding him through his eyelashes. "You don't mind if I make them _worse,_ do you?"

Nilesy looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. Panda grinned hopefully.

"Why on _earth_ should I mind a thing like that?" Nilesy asked.

Panda kissed him. Lyndon got out of his lap and stalked away, offended.

* * *

 

After dinner, the whole group of them naturally aggregated in the main room of the lefthand side. Zylus set up one of his ridiculous retro fighting games and proceeded to clean house against everyone except Lomadia. Nano quickly became frustrated and quit before she burned through the controller, screaming through her teeth in anguish as she was beaten over and over again. Lalna, on the other hand, seemed to find losing delightful, and could not be pried from the controller for anything.

"Anybody want in?" Zylus asked, holding up his controller after just edging out Lomadia for a win. "My fingersh are falling off."

"Mine!" Panda said, snatching the controller from him before anyone else could. Zylus shoved his shoulder and Panda elbowed him in the chest.

"You never want to play with _me,"_ Zylus said.

"Because I hate losing, now fuck off and give me your spot," Panda said, leaning heavily against Zylus as though trying to scoot him across the floor.

"Never," said Zylus, leaning right back on him. "Fight me, shpeedy."

"Oh, you wanna go? You wanna go, motherfucker? I'll take you on right here."

"I thought you hated loshing."

Panda made a face, and then his hands darted to Zylus's ribs, blurring. Zylus yelped and scurried away, and Panda took his spot with an air of grand satisfaction.

"It's hard to lose when your opponent is _stupidly_ ticklish," he said, gloating. Zylus came up behind him and snapped the elastic on his eyepatch.

"Be right back," he said. "You better clean houshe, shpeedy, that'sh my good controller and you'll bring shame upon my family if you loshe with it."

"Yeah yeah, go do your stuff," said Panda, already starting the next round. Zylus ruffled his hair and went off to his room.

"I'm going to beat you and put shame on Zylus's family," Lomadia said, regarding Panda slyly.

"Yeah?" said Panda. "Fucking bring it on!"

"Don't you dare shame his family," Nilesy said to Panda. He was spectating from the couch, unwilling to put up with any more frustration today.

"Why not? _Fucking get back over here, Lom!"_

Lomadia laughed, leading Panda's character on a merry chase across the stage.

"Oh no!" said Lalna, not sounding the least bit upset. "I fell again."

"You're doing fantastic, sib," Nilesy assured them.

"I'm not," said Lalna. "But it's funny. Nano is laughing, look."

Indeed, Nano had put a hand over her mouth and her shoulders were shaking. Rythian, too, was snickering into his respirator as he played, his fingers dextrous even inside their rubber gloves.

Zylus returned from his room with a large brown paper bag, which he set on the floor next to the coffee table. He reached in and pulled out two bottles of gin, then set them on the table with a heavy _thunk._

"Oh, is it time for the weekly drink-a-thon already?" Nano inquired, turning away from the spectacle of the game and raising an eyebrow.

"Absholutely," said Zylus. "I think I'm entitled to unwind. You can judge when you find shomething elshe that worksh."

"It's turning into a very expensive habit," said Nano.

"That'sh where you're wrong," said Zylus. "I got theshe free from work. They're shparesh. Pasht the shell-by date. We can't legally sherve them anymore, and we're technically shupposhed to throw them out, sho I get them for free."

"Fine, but that's a bit much for just you, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "Everybody elshe ish _welcome_ to join. I'm not shtingy."

"I'm in," Rythian said, perhaps too quickly.

"Don't see why not," said Nilesy, studiously not looking at Rythian. It hadn't much occurred to him before, but getting too drunk to see straight was sounding pretty good right about then.

"I could have a drink, yeah," said Panda. Lomadia shrugged, concentrating on the game.

"I can't experience the physical effects of alcohol," Lalna said. "But I know many mixed-drink recipes involving gin. I would like to try some of them out."

"But you could do that thing with the salt-water again, that was _basically_ the same, right?" said Panda.

Lalna made a face. "That was not very fun, and is likely damaging to my systems."

"Oh. All right then, whatever suits you best. Nano, you in?"

Nano frowned around at them all, then sighed. She cast her eyes to the ceiling, making a show of considering.

_"Welllll,"_ she said. "All right. If everyone else is partaking."

Zylus cracked the first bottle open.

 


	6. Chapter 5

"What'd you want to be when you grew up?" Nano asked, her chin on her hand, regarding Zylus coyly.

"Shorry?" he said, pausing with his glass against his lower lip. The first bottle of gin was nearly gone and all of the human members of the party had settled around the coffee table. Nilesy and Panda were leaning against one another on the couch, Rythian and Zylus were in armchairs across from each other, Lomadia was perched on the back of the couch, and Nano had brought in the chair from Lomadia's room to sit in. Lalna had gone back to their own room a few minutes ago, reluctant to skip out on sleep cycles until they figured out a way to recharge their power core.

Nano gestured vaguely to Zylus. "Like, when you were a kid," she said. "What'd you want to be when you grew up? 'Cause I bet it wasn't a blackjack dealer in Vegas. So what was it?"

Zylus took a sip of his drink and rested his ankle on his knee. He cast his eyes to the ceiling and made a face.

"Like, shixsh different thingsh?" he said. "I had phashesh."

"Okay, so what were they?" Panda asked.

"It'sh shtupid," said Zylus.

"So?" said Panda. "When I was four I wanted to be a monster truck, it _can't_ be more stupid than that."

Nilesy laughed, and Nano snorted into her hand.

"That's really cute," said Lomadia.

"Yeah, well," said Panda. "After that I wanted to be a footballer, but then I got sick, so that all sort of went out the window."

Frowning, Nano said, "I'm sure there's diabetic footballers. It can't be like, an automatic dis—disk—disqualification."

"I didn't feel like fucking about with it," said Panda. "And, y'know, that was also when the Powers cropped up, and they _definitely_ wouldn't let someone like me play on a professional team. Any team, really, it'd be _totally_ unfair. Still can't watch football, it hurts too much. But I like what I'm doing now, I like writing and stuff."

"That's always good," said Nano. "I used to—honestly, okay, this is stupid, but—I used to want to be an astronaut."

_"Really?"_ said Lomadia. "That's really cool!"

"Do people even _go_ to space anymore?" Rythian asked.

"Not if they're blind in one eye, they don't," Nano drawled. She took a long sip of her gin and tonic and winced. After Lalna had left, the mixed drinks had gotten a lot simpler and a lot more alcoholic. "But I _did_ get to be a superhero instead, so I s'pose it balances out. I don't know any astronauts who can _fly."_

"Yeah, all they've got is all that silly zero-gravity bollocks, clearly inferior," said Nilesy.

"Are you having a laugh?" Nano demanded.

"Always," he said, winking.

"I think you would've made a _great_ astronaut," said Panda. "You totally could've done it."

Nano sighed. "Yeah," she said. She drank the rest of her gin.

"So are you going to answer now?" Lomadia asked Zylus.

He shrugged. "I guessh. Let'sh shee . . . firsht wash the fighter-pilot phashe, that went away when I found out it involved killing people. Then it wash—what came after that—uhh, then it wash the _commercial_ pilot phashe, but then it turned out airplanesh make me shick. You remember."

"I _remember,"_ Panda groaned, rolling his eye.

"After that, I deshided I wanted to work for Google," Zylus went on, "until I realished I hated programming. Then it wash physhical therapisht, I wash on that one for a _while,_ all the way up until univershity, and then I dropped back to—" He broke off.

"To what?" Nilesy prompted. Zylus made a face and refilled his own glass, finishing off the first bottle of gin.

"I guessh you can know the shecret now," he said heavily. "Then it wash massheushe."

_"That's how you got so good!"_ Panda cried, jabbing an accusatory finger at him. "That's how you got so good at those fucking foot massages!"

"Glad you never told us that, sure it would've changed everything about how we think of you," Nilesy intoned.

"Oh, shut up," said Zylus. "I didn't shay becaushe then you would've ashked me why I quit."

"Okay, but," said Nano, "why _did_ you quit? And why haven't I gotten a foot massage yet? It's been nearly a year!"

"You haven't asked," Panda said. "He gets all weird about giving out massages if you don't ask, 'cause he's scared you'll get icky feelings."

"They _are_ icky and it'sh _good mannersh,"_ Zylus retorted. "Beshidesh, I—okay, the reashon I quit, right? I wash working at thish one plashe in Rotterdam, it wash about my third month actually doing work. I had thish one lady who—short of, I guessh, uhh . . . had a thing for me? She kept, like—"

"Coming on to you?" Panda asked.

"That," said Zylus. "Eventually I managed to get her banned, becaushe she wash getting short of . . . pushy, but then she shtarted . . . shtalking me? A-and eventually I jusht left the country. To get away from her. And then I jusht short of picked up gaming shtuff becaushe I liked it and it didn't need any exshtra school and people were a lot lessh likely to shtart fucking shtalking me. Didn't help that the Powersh cropped up around then, sho I could shee _every fucking thing_ she thought about me. It wash _torture_ _."_

He drained his glass in one go, wincing and shaking his head.

"God, that's horrendous," said Nilesy.

"Wait," said Nano, peering at Zylus. "Then how come you've got a University of Bristol flag in your room, if you didn't go there?"

"I like their football team," he said, straight-faced. He picked up the second bottle of gin from the table, opened it, and poured himself another drink. "Rythian, it'sh your turn."

"Oh, Christ," said Rythian. "Do I have to?"

"I _am_ really curious," said Nano. "I can't imagine you wanted to be homeless when you were a kid."

Rythian rolled his eyes. "I . . . wanted to be a policeman. Okay?"

_"Seriously?"_ Nano cried.

"Oh, that's delightful," said Nilesy, grinning. "What a glorious fucking irony."

"Shut up," Rythian snapped.

"Why? Going to arrest me? I'll start yelling about freedom of speech. That's very popular over here, y'know, yelling about freedom of speech."

_"Don't_ start," Nano cut in, rolling her eyes.

"I wanted to be a dinosaur," Lomadia said.

"Aw, oh my _God,"_ Nano squeaked, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh, that's the cutest thing I've ever heard!"

"Yeah?" said Lomadia, smiling. "And now I sort of am one, so I win."

"You're living the dream, dear," Nilesy told her, looking up at her with stars in his eyes.

"Niles?" Panda prompted, elbowing him in the arm.

"What?" said Nilesy.

"We've all gone, now it's your go."

"My go for what?"

"Don't play dumb, it doeshn't work on you," said Zylus.

Nilesy grinned at him. "Oh, but it's so much more _fun._ What was the question? I was admiring my beautiful girlfriend."

"What'd you want to be when you grew up?" Lomadia asked, blushing and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Nothing," said Nilesy, and drained his glass.

"Aw, c'mon Niles, don't be like that," said Panda. "It's just a silly question, just answer it."

"No, _no_ no, you don't want me talking about that," said Nilesy. "I never wanted to be anything. There. Done. Moving on."

"You must've wanted to be _something,"_ said Lomadia. "Even _I_ wanted to be _something,_ and I'm mostly an owl."

"Only about half, dear," Nilesy said, absolutely sincere.

"C'mon, Niles," Panda said. "We've all done one, you've got to do one now."

"I wouldn't want to bring down the _mood,_ Panda dear," Nilesy sighed. "We're all having such a lovely time, wouldn't want to ruin it by dredging up my bleak and hollow childhood."

"This is already fantastic," Nano drawled.

"Refill?" Zylus offered.

"Yes please," she said, holding out her glass. He poured about two fingers of gin into it and she topped it off with tonic water. Even so, she still winced when she took a sip. _"Ugh._ God, that stuff is foul."

"But free," said Zylus, setting the bottle back on the table.

"But free," Nano agreed.

_"Nile-sy,"_ Panda was whining. "It's not even that bad, it's just what you wanted to be when you grew up! It's not like anybody's asking for _details."_

"Who _cares,_ dear?" Nilesy asked, letting his head loll back against the couch, showing off the fresh bloom of bruises on his neck.

"I do," said Lomadia.

"Me," said Panda.

"I'll admit to being morbidly curious," Nano said.

"I don't," said Rythian, not looking at anyone in the room.

"Ignore him, he'sh bitter. I demand to know what tiny Nileshy ashpired to," Zylus said. "And I'm too drunk to cheat, sho you have to shay it out loud."

Nilesy looked around at the group of them and let out a put-upon sigh.

"I'm going to need at _least_ one more drink," he said, leaning over and offering up his empty glass. Zylus poured about two fingers of gin into it. Nilesy raised his eyebrows at him and swirled the glass. Rolling his eyes, Zylus filled it up to the halfway point. Nilesy sat back and Panda snuggled up to him while he drained his glass in four wincing gulps.

"Okay, _now_ tell," said Panda.

_"Give_ it a minute," Nilesy said. "It hasn't done me any good yet."

_"Spill,"_ Panda insisted, shaking him. _"Spiiiiiill!"_

"Oy—would you— _come_ now, you little rascal—"

Panda flung his arms around Nilesy's shoulders and nuzzled into his neck.

"Stop, _stop_ stop stop," Nilesy gasped, pushing on his chest. Panda sat back and Nilesy took his chin in his hand and kissed him. Grinning, he murmured, "Not in _public,_ darling."

"Disgusting," Nano said, shaking her head.

_"Right?"_ Zylus exclaimed, sitting forward. "Thank fuck I'm fucking drunk, I don't even want to _think_ about what'sh going through their headsh."

"Oh, _God,"_ said Nano, laughing.

Lomadia nudged Nilesy's head. "You've got to tell now," she said. "You said."

"Lom," he whined, toying with the collar of Panda's shirt. "Have I _got_ to?"

_"We_ all did," she said. "It's no fair if you don't."

Nilesy pouted, and Panda kissed his cheek. Lomadia nudged him again. Rythian quietly drained his glass and held it out to Zylus for a refill.

"I wanted . . . to be. . . ." Nilesy said, and sighed heavily, and made a face. His next words came out at an embarrassed mumble. "A . . . marine biologist."

Nano nearly spat her drink out. "A _what?"_ she cried, delighted. _"You?"_

"That's _wonderful,"_ Panda said, snuggling up against Nilesy's shoulder. Nilesy swatted at him half-heartedly.

"See? I knew you wanted to be something," said Lomadia.

"Fitting," Rythian muttered into his glass, already halfway through his refill.

"I might regret thish," Zylus said, propping his cheek on his knuckles, "but why?"

"I don't _know,"_ Nilesy sighed. "I thought blue whales were cool and sharks were fucking badass and—I dunno, I wanted to get in a submarine and—look at fucking _fish,_ I dunno, I was _six!"_

"Aww, Niles, you'd make the best marine biologist," Panda said, drawing figures on Nilesy's chest with one finger.

"Ahah, no, no I wouldn't, on account of I haven't actually been to school since I was sixteen," he said. His face fell, and he shrugged and crossed his legs. "Y'know. That and all the other reasons. Besides, I can go look at fucking fish anytime I like, now. Don't even need the submarine."

"Guess you got lucky," said Rythian. He drained his glass again and started making eyes at the bottle on the table.

"I can't believe _you_ wanted to be a scientist," Nano said. "That just . . . blows my mind."

"Uh," said Zylus, his brows drawing together.

"Yeah," said Nilesy. "Right? Stupid."

"It's not stupid," said Lomadia. "It's really cool."

"Yeah, yeah, no, it's like—just sort of weird, right?" said Nano. "There's nothing _wrong_ with it, I just wouldn't've expected _you_ to . . . yeah."

Zylus took a swig straight out of the bottle and put a hand over his eyes. Nilesy was staring blankly at the table, some expression fighting to get itself to the surface of his face. Panda nudged him, frowning.

"Niles?" he said.

The corner of Nilesy's mouth twitched.

"Only time Dad was ever proud of me," he said.

There was a moment of silence. Zylus took another long drink straight out of the bottle. Rythian coughed. Panda's eyes darted, and Lomadia shifted her weight on the back of the couch. All the warmth in Nano went sour as the implications of that statement percolated through her consciousness.

"Oh," she said. "Um. . . ."

"Told you I'd bring the mood down," said Nilesy, and got up and left the room, catching himself on the walls as his unsteady feet tripped over themselves.

"We throw the _besht_ fucking partiesh," Zylus said viciously. "I fucking _love_ our partiesh. Thish ish great." He put the bottle to his lips and started _chugging_ it. Nano pulled it out of his hands.

_"Stop_ that," she said. "You're going to make yourself sick, good God."

"That'sh the idea," Zylus wheezed, tears in his eyes. He made a muzzy grab for the bottle, which Nano yanked out of his reach.

"I should—I'm just going to—" Panda said, getting up and pointing vaguely at the corridor where Nilesy had gone.

"You should watch your blood sugar," said Lomadia. "You said to tell you so. I'll go be with Nilesy 'til he's better."

"You don't have to—" Nano began, and then Zylus snatched the bottle back and tucked it up against the arm of his chair, curling around it protectively. She turned to him, exasperated. "Okay, fine. Fine! But when your liver fails, you're _not_ having mine!"

"I don't want your shtupid liver anyway," said Zylus.

"Um," said Panda. "Anybody—anybody seen my meter? I can't remember where I left it."

"Kitchen," said Rythian. He set his glass on the table and scooted it over to Zylus with one finger. Zylus shot a look at Nano and then filled it up for him. He scooted it back, also with one finger, and Rythian picked it up.

"Cheersh," said Zylus, holding up the bottle.

"Fuck it," said Rythian, clinking his glass against the bottom of the bottle.

Lomadia got down off the couch and circled around towards the corridor. She paused to kiss the top of Nano's head on the way by.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine," Nano sighed. "Some people need more tending than others."

Lomadia took her chin in her hand and tipped her face up to kiss her on the lips. Nano's whole body flushed hot and bright, like she'd just taken another shot of hard liquor.

"Tomorrow," Lomadia said. "Promise."

"'Kay," Nano said faintly.

Lomadia smiled and kissed her again, and then went off down the corridor to Nilesy's room.

"I should . . . I should probably be getting to bed," said Nano. Between the kisses and the alcohol, she was having a hard time getting her head together.

From the kitchen, there was a clattering, and Panda cursed vehemently.

"What wash that?" Zylus called, craning his neck as though he could see into the kitchen from there.

"Nothing!" Panda called back. "Just dropped the stupid meter! Everything's fine!"

"Want help?"

"Not from _you,_ Sir Chugs-a-lot!"

"I'm going to call the copsh on you for verbal abushe. Look, there'sh one already in the living room! Rythian, go arresht him. You can borrow Nileshy'sh handcuffsh, which he totally hash and you know it."

Rythian glared at him with such intensity it was a wonder a bolt of lightning didn't leap the space between them.

"I hate you," he said.

"You _would,_ if I weren't sho darn cute," Zylus replied, smiling. "Refill?"

Rythian drained his glass and held it out. Zylus refilled it and then took another long swig from the bottle.

"I'll just tell Lalna you've stayed over here tonight, shall I?" Nano asked, looking between Rythian and Zylus.

"Probably," said Rythian.

"I'll take good care of him, captain," Zylus said, and saluted to her.

"In half an hour you're going to be vomiting into the nearest toilet," Nano said.

Zylus shrugged and drank straight out of the bottle again. "I'm reshcuing him from all the resht of thish fucking gin. Clearly I'm a martyr and you shouldn't be sho fucking shitty to me."

Nano sighed and got to her feet. The world wobbled for a moment, and she had to catch herself on Zylus's shoulder. He turned his head and kissed her hand. She slapped him playfully, and he flung himself over the opposite arm of the chair.

"I'm _shlain!"_ he moaned.

"Stop dying on the booze," said Rythian.

"You two," Nano warned, shaking a finger at them.

"I'll look after them," Panda said, poking his head in from the kitchen. "I've barely had any, and I'm going to be up for ages anyway making sure my sugar stays reasonable."

"Thank you," she said to him. She turned back to Zylus and Rythian. "You two, drink lots of water and _don't_ make his job difficult."

"Yesh ma'am," said Zylus, still draped over the arm of the chair.

Rythian saluted lazily. "What he said."

Shaking her head, Nano went to bed.


	7. Chapter 6

It was late the next morning when Nano woke, and she knew immediately that something was wrong. She crawled out of bed, her head dizzy, her stomach full of pain. On unsteady legs, she staggered to the bathroom, where she stood for a few long seconds, trying to work out what she was there for.

Eventually, she knelt in front of the toilet, nausea oozing up her throat, waiting for her body to decide if all this was really necessary. With a hitch and then a heave, she threw up in the toilet, tears stinging her eyes.

What came out was black, black and grainy as coffee grounds, almost tarry. Nano stared at it while it floated undeniably in the toilet in front of her, tears sliding slowly down her nose.

_That's blood,_ she thought absently, as though watching a film. _I've just thrown up blood._

She stayed there some time, the reality of the situation failing to set it. After a minute or so, she got up, and flushed the blood down, and rinsed her mouth out with water. The pain was still in her stomach, dulled to a low ache. She stood looking at herself in the mirror. Something in her was coming loose, panic readying itself to go rattling out through her body and bones.

"It's okay," she said to herself in the mirror. "We'll see a doctor. It'll be fine. It's probably nothing, after all."

She washed her hands and went out into the main room, drifting and muzzy. She came to rest near the kitchen doorway, not knowing where to go or what to do. Her mind was empty, her body foreign around her.

Rythian came out of the kitchen suddenly, almost running into her.

"Oh, um," he said, taking a step back. His skin was sallow and his voice was hoarse, and he was holding a large glass of water. If a hangover had a face, it was Rythian's. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she said, and her voice shook and was thin as paper.

"Are you—all right?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

Slowly, Nano shook her head.

"I've just . . . thrown up blood," she said. The words choked off as the dam burst, and suddenly she was crying, tears rolling down her face in steady succession, a lump in her throat so thick and heavy she could barely breathe.

"Oh, _God,"_ Rythian said his bloodshot eyes going wide. "Oh, Christ, okay, um—okay, that's—that's bad! That's very bad. Um. I don't—Christ—um, come—come sit down and—I guess we should—do you need to go to the hospital? Is that—do you—I'll just . . . get Zylus. That's—what I'll do. Yes. Okay. That will work. _Christ."_

She allowed herself to be led to the nearest couch, and Rythian set her down and fussed over her for a few minutes in a state of gentle panic. She cried all through it, until Rythian scurried off. He was gone a little longer than Nano thought was necessary, and though she took the time to pull herself together, a fresh dread started churning in the bottom of her stomach.

Or perhaps she was just going to vomit again, it was hard to say.

Rythian came back, without Zylus but with Panda.

"Um," he said. "Zylus can't—drive. Right now. So . . . Panda says he can—do things. I'll just—stay here, and hold down the fort."

"Technically I can't drive either," Panda said. "At least not legally. So we'll just hope we don't get pulled over."

"N-no, it's okay, I can—I can drive myself," Nano said, sniffling and getting carefully to her feet. "But—but if you could . . . come with me—"

Again the tears choked her off, and she stood there weeping and wiping her nose on her wrist. Panda gave her a pack of tissues and then took her arm, his grip tight.

"Yeah," he said. "I've got you."

"You—you've got all your—your diabetes stuff, and everything?" she asked, because it was easier to be concerned about him than about herself.

"Oh, shit, good point," said Panda. He zipped off in a blur and returned seconds later with a large black backpack. It had _DIABETES STUFF_ written on it in silver marker. "Okay. Good to go."

"Rythian?" said Nano, her voice shaking and stuffy. "Tell—tell Lal where I've gone. And Lom. Tell them I'm—I'm okay—" Her voice gave out on her. Panda patted her arm.

"You'll be all right," he assured her. "It's going to be okay, Nano. Hang in there."

She sniffled, nodding, choked up and trembling and sick.

"I'll . . . tell them," Rythian said. "Um. You—you're going to be all right. I'll—do all of that . . . stuff. That you just said."

"Come on, Nano," Panda said, tugging on her gently. "The sooner we get you there, the less scary it'll be. Okay?"

"Okay," she said. "Yeah. O-okay."

Panda helped her out to the car, waited patiently while she pulled herself together enough to see straight, and didn't talk all the way to the hospital, which she was grateful for.

Once there, he did all the talking, which she was also grateful for, because she couldn't open her mouth without crying. He seemed remarkably calm as he explained the situation to the triage nurse at the desk, and she wondered how many times he'd had to be bundled off to hospital because something had gone terribly wrong with him. At least, she thought, she wasn't dying in the back of a car. On the other hand, it was unlikely that her problems could be fixed with a bottle of juice and a bag of gummy worms, so perhaps it balanced out.

After about ten minutes, a nurse stepped out into the lobby and called the fake name she'd provided. Nano got to her feet, and Panda stood as well, hoisting up his backpack.

"Want me to come with you?" he asked. "They've got to let you have a medibuddy if you want one."

"Um . . . no, that's . . . that's all right," she said, fiddling with the plastic-paper ID bracelet clipped around her wrist. "I think I'll be okay."

"All right," said Panda, sitting back down. "I'll wait out here for you."

"Thank you, P—John," she said, remembering his alias at the last second.

"Anytime, honestly."

The nurse led her back to a tiny gray bed surrounded by curtains, took her weight and her temperature and her blood pressure, listened attentively while she explained the problem.

"I'm so sorry," the nurse said. "Sounds like you've had a rough morning."

"That's an understatement," Nano said damply.

"Anything like this ever happened before?"

"No, never."

"Well, we'll get you taken care of," the nurse said. "We'll have a nurse come by in a few minutes to take some blood samples, things like that. Once we have the results of that, the doctor will come back and see you—that might take a few hours, and we'll probably have you wait in the lobby, since all our beds are full. If you need anything while you're back here, you can just yell. There's a bathroom at the end of the hall, too, if you need it, or if that's too far, there's some sick bags right here." She tapped a dispenser on the wall with blue plastic dangling out the bottom of it.

"Thank you," said Nano.

"You're welcome," the nurse said gently. "Hopefully we can get this taken care of for you."

She left. Nano passed the time by reading all the little signs, notifications, and labels around the curtained cubicle, listening to the conversation from the similar curtained beds around her. She wished she'd brought a book. Left on her own, she was starting to get shaky and nervous again, the pain in her stomach more noticeable.

A few minutes later, another nurse came in, took some blood samples and a cheek swab and left her with a plaster inside her elbow and a flimsy paper cup of water. The first nurse returned ten minutes after that and led Nano back to the waiting room, where she sat down with Panda and explained the situation. He nodded, making a face.

"Pretty typical," he said. "Guess we're in for the long haul."

She and Panda waited for more than two hours after the initial procedure, talking about nothing, picking fun at the magazines provided and the mindless TV shows playing in the corners. Nano didn't stop feeling sick the entire time, but some of the nausea subsided and she didn't have to throw up again, and eventually she managed to drink a bottle of water, which helped.

Once again, a nurse came out and called Nano's fake name. Once again, she left Panda in the waiting room and went back alone. This time, the nurse led her to a small room with a bed in it. There was also a chair, which Nano sat in instead of trying to settle herself on the bed. The nurse told her the doctor would be in soon and left her alone with her boredom.

After nearly half an hour, there was a brisk knock at the door. Without waiting for any response, a man in dark blue scrubs strode in and stuck out a hand.

"Dr. Gaul," he said. "Miss Richards?"

"Doctor," Nano corrected automatically. She managed to keep from wincing and took his hand. His grip was like iron. He gave her hand a perfunctory shake and dropped himself into the rolling office chair in front of the room's computer.

"Okay, so, what's the problem?" he said, typing away. Nano started to answer, but he cut her off. "Emesis with blood, okay. Vitals look normal, weight's good. Bloodwork seems okay, but uh . . . _huh_ , okay, so that's different, you got some _severe_ acidosis going on. You shouldn't even be sitting there. Now, lemme ask you this, Dr. Richards: are you Powered?"

The rapid-fire stream of consciousness left Nano struggling to catch her breath. "Um, yes, I—I am."

"Let me see your card, please?" he said, holding out a hand.

"Oh, right, yes, um—" said Nano. She dug in her purse for a moment, fumbling about until she found her wallet and the forged Registry card within. Dr. Gaul looked it over with one eyebrow raised.

"Acidiferous mucogen, uh- _huh,"_ he said, handing the card back. "Well that would explain some stuff. This ever happened before, Dr. Richards?"

"No," she said. "Nothing like it."

"All that scarring, is _that_ Power-related?" he asked, gesturing to her face.

"Yes?" she guessed. "But it was years ago, back when I first started manifesting. It's not really related to this."

"Uh- _huh,"_ said Dr. Gaul. "Okay, now lemme ask you this: anything you can think of that might have caused this? _Dietary_ changes, stress, some kind of . . . _injury,_ or something? Any _surgery_ in the past few months, anything like that?"

"Not . . . really?" said Nano, fidgeting. "Um, I mean, I sort of . . . had a few drinks last night, but nothing excessive."

"Right, right," said Dr. Gaul, nodding and typing. "How frequently do you drink, Dr. Richards? Couple times a week, couple times a month? Couple times a _day?"_

"Um . . . maybe once or twice a month? Not much," she said.

"How many drinks, when you drink?"

"One or two?"

"And how many last night?"

She let out a breath through her teeth. "Um . . . I dunno, probably like, five?"

"Uh- _huh,"_ said Dr. Gaul, typing some more. "Any other gastro symptoms? Lump or burning in the back of your throat, indigestion, heartburn, changes in bowel habits?"

"No," said Nano.

"Okay, okay," said Dr. Gaul, more to himself than to her. He sucked in a long breath through his nose. "Now, lemme ask you this: have you noticed any changes in your _Powers?_ Increased _acidity,_ neuro- _logical_ symptoms, something like that?"

"Not . . . that I've noticed," she said. "It's all been sort of . . . out of nowhere, honestly."

"Uh- _huh,_ okay, Dr. Richards, here's my take on this." He swiveled the chair around and fixed her with a piercing gaze. "From what you've described, and the lack of other symptoms, far as I can tell, this is just your Powers acting up. For right now, I don't think we need to prescribe anything. Drink lots of water, and if you feel like it'll help, you can get alkaline water most places for pretty cheap. Try and keep your stress to a minimum and avoid, uh, dairy, chocolate, alcohol, and spicy foods. No hot or iced drinks, either. Should be able to find some good diets online for gastric distress kinds of things. Now. You have any questions for me?"

Nano stared at him.

"That's _it?"_ she said, venom on her voice. "No . . . no tests, no nothing?"

"I don't think it's necessary at this point," Dr. Gaul said.

"I'm bleeding internally, and you don't think it's _necessary_ to figure out _why?"_ she demanded, her fists clenching.

"Dr. Richards, I'm gonna have to ask you to calm down, please," Dr. Gaul said. _"Judging_ by what you told me, I don't think there's cause for concern at this point. You might wanna find a GI doc you can see regularly if you keep having problems, but so far as I can tell, this isn't an emergency situation. You have insurance, right?"

"Yes," said Nano, clenching her teeth. "I do."

"Great, so you're all set. Just head on out back the way you came and make sure you do your copay on the way out."

He got up, shook her hand again, and strode out. Nano sat there fuming for a good minute and a half before she got up and headed back to the front desk.

The copay was a whopping eighty dollars. Nano bit her tongue and paid it, focusing all her attention on not melting her credit card by accident. She stormed out, and Panda scurried after her, apparently taken by surprise.

"What happened?" he asked, tagging along at her elbow. "Are you good to go? Did they give you anything?"

"A load of fucking bullshit," Nano snapped. "Apparently it's just my _Powers_ acting up."

"Oh," said Panda. "Well that's . . . good, right? That it's not serious?"

"They've got no idea if it's serious! They just put it down to my fucking Powers and chucked me out!"

"Oh," Panda said again. "Well—shit. Fuck them. Should we go find somebody else? I'm sure there's tons of doctors about who don't suck so fucking much. We'll find somebody who'll help."

Nano took a deep breath. They were walking through the parking deck, which was still oven-hot despite being in its own shade. She rubbed her face and sighed.

"I can't handle any more fucking doctors today," she said. "We'll just hope I don't _die_ before tomorrow."

"Okay," said Panda. "D'you want me to drive?"

"Yes, please," Nano said curtly.

"Can I have the keys, then?"

She handed them over, and he hurried ahead to get the car open and the air conditioner running.

"Fucking _Powers_ acting up," Nano muttered under her breath.

* * *

 

It was pushing into evening when Nano and Panda got back home, having stopped for a bite to eat on the way back. Apparently Panda had been keeping Zylus appraised of the situation via text, so he didn't anticipate anyone would be terribly worried if they took an extra hour. Nano fumed the entire time, sizzling with anger such that she kept accidentally oozing acid onto things, including her own wallet. Fortunately she noticed before she got out her credit card and melted that, too. Panda covered her meal without comment.

He opened the door for her when she got back, letting her into the lefthand side duplex and then following her in. It was quiet inside, except for the low chatter of the television.

Nilesy jumped up from the couch, his face drawn and his eyes wide.

"You're back!" he cried. "Zylus told me you were in hospital, what's happened? Is everything all right? Rythian's off on his walk and Lalna's on the other side making biscuits and Zylus has gone on to work, but Lom's in her room, and we've all been worried sick about you. But you're all right? You're—you don't _look_ dead, is everything. . . ?"

Nano blinked at him, thrown.

"I—yeah," she said. "It's not serious. Apparently."

Panda patted her on the arm as he went past, heading for his room without comment.

"Well thank _God_ for that," Nilesy said, sagging. "Anything I can do? Lom's in her room but she's not sleeping, she'll be wanting to know you're all right. I could—shall I go get her? Or—"

"I can do that myself, thank you," Nano said patiently. "I _would_ say I could use a cup of tea, but apparently hot drinks are off the table for me at the moment."

"They've got cold tea here, actually!" Nilesy said, brightening. "There's a shop right down the road, not far at all, I could go get you a cold tea if you want. I mean it's horrible and sugary and not really proper tea at all, but—"

"You don't . . . have to do that," Nano said.

"No no, it's no trouble, it's good practice, actually. I've got much better at talking to people, y'know, without the—" He gestured to his face. His hands were shaking.

Nano sighed and rubbed her temple. "If it'll make you feel better, fine. That would be lovely, Nilesy, thank you."

"All right," he said. "I'll—where've I put my shoes—"

He started hunting around the room, muttering to himself with a quivering energy.

"I'll . . . be in Lom's room," Nano said.

"What? Right, yes, okay, good! Fantastic. She's been worried half to death about you, hasn't slept a wink—now what've I done with my wallet, silly bastard—"

After a moment's thought, Nano crossed the room and caught Nilesy by the shoulders. His hair was fraying out of its ponytail and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Nilesy," she said. "I'm all right. It's all right."

"Yeah, I know," he said, his voice light and shaking. "I mean, clearly, ahahah, wasn't worried a bit, doesn't trouble me at all, ahah—"

_"Nilesy,"_ she said, shaking him once.

He seemed to come back to himself, settling. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he glanced at her eyes.

"Sorry," he said. "Sorry, no, I'm fine. You—you go see Lom, and—and take care of yourself. Sorry. Don't worry about me. All fine."

Nano sighed. She patted his arm and moved off, but paused before she got to the corridor.

"I'm . . . not _sure_ I'm all right," she admitted, and the lump was back in her throat and the tears were back in her eyes. "The doctor just sort of . . . put it down to my Powers and sent me off. Didn't even test for anything, really."

"Fucking typical," Nilesy spat, venomous. Nano glanced back at him. His fists had clenched at his sides, and his face was hard. He saw her looking at him, and the corner of his mouth curled up again. He spread his hands in a gesture of invitation. "If you want me to kill them for you. . . ."

"Don't even joke," Nano said, shaking her head but unable to suppress a wry smile. _"Don't_ even joke."

"Ahah, yes. Of course. Sorry." He watched her for a moment, then returned his eyes to the floor, patting down his pockets. "Now—wallet, wallet, where've I left my wallet. . . ."

Nano left him there, feeling oddly touched.

* * *

 

Lomadia pounced upon her the moment she came in the room, touching her face and her hair and her shoulders, checking her over with her wings pinned close to her back. It was dark in the room, and the floor was scratched up in places from the pacing of Lomadia's talons.

"You're not still hurt, are you?" she said. "Are you better? Did they make you better? You're all right, aren't you? Nano? Aren't you?"

She caught Lomadia's hands, feeling suddenly weak and tired.

"I'm—not dying," she said. "Probably. They . . . didn't really tell me much I didn't already know, but I think I'm going to be okay. Probably."

Lomadia tipped her head back and forth, watching Nano's face. "So you're all right?"

Nano sighed. "For now," she said. "Are . . . _you_ all right?"

"I was worried," she said. "I was really really worried because Zylus said you were in hospital. I would've waited out in the front with Nilesy, or come out when I heard you—because I heard you talking—but it's so bright out there and you said you were coming back here anyway so I just waited. I _was_ really worried, though."

"I know," Nano said gently. "And I'm sorry. I'll . . . I'm going to find another doctor, soon. One who'll actually help. I'll be okay."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Okay, good."

They stood for a moment, hand-in-hand, watching each other's eyes. Nano stood up on her toes and kissed Lomadia, carefully.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," said Lomadia. "You're sure you're okay?"

"As okay as I can be, sweetheart. I think I might just . . . go to bed."

"It's sort of early still, though."

"I know, but I'm _dead_ tired, and . . . honestly I just don't want to be conscious anymore."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "You can sleep here, if you want. I can stay until work."

"I think I'd rather stay in my own room, sweetheart, but thank you," she said. "I still don't feel great, to be honest."

"I'm sorry," said Lomadia. She touched the fuzz of Nano's hair. "But . . . you're okay, right?"

_"Yes,_ Lom, I'm okay. I promise I'm okay."

"Okay. Go sleep, then. Sweet dreams."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Good hunting tonight."

Lomadia kissed her forehead. "Thanks," she said. "Now go sleep."


	8. Chapter 7

Lalna had learned boredom four months ago. It had taken them eight days to properly identify it, but the emotion had been present in their repertoire since then. They had not assigned an emotional indicator color for it, nor an expression, although certain internet searches had provided adequate body language to express it. It had been almost exciting, at first, discovering a new emotion, although the shine had worn off quickly as they experienced it more and more often.

Today they were experiencing another new emotion, although this one had been easier to pin down.

It was impatience.

Nano was still at work, although she should return home in a few hours' time. Rythian had left early in the day. He had not said where he was going and had not taken his phone with him. Panda was also at work, Lomadia was asleep, and Nilesy was with her. Zylus was secluded in his room, doing whatever Zylus did in his room. Even Lyndon wanted to be left alone, as evidenced by his hiding under the sink and yowling at Lalna whenever they came close.

The inaction was frustrating. Nano was clearly ill, but no one seemed to be attempting to make her better. She was not seeking medical care, although every online source Lalna could find stated that this was necessary, considering her symptoms. Although technically she had already sought medical care, it was clear that no care had actually been given, and whatever actions had been taken were insufficient by her own admission. It was therefore incomprehensible that no one was doing anything when such a dangerous condition persisted. It had been five days since her visit to the hospital and no changes had been made. She'd even continued to go to work.

There was, too, the issue of Rythian, who had been closed off and distant ever since his last night spent with Nilesy—and not to mention the issue of the night itself. Rythian never talked about such events, despite the regularity with which they occurred, except to mention in gruff and angry tones that they had happened at all. The issue had been giving Lalna trouble for months now, and with a lack of anything else to do and an overabundance of worry, they decided that steps ought to be taken. Perhaps, they reasoned, doing _something_ would reduce their impatience. They had decided they did not like the feeling, novel though it was.

They made their way to Zylus's door and stood outside for a moment. They no longer had thermal cameras, but their hearing was still acute. They could detect the clicking of buttons and the attenuated audio from a video game played through headphones. They briefly considered leaving Zylus alone, but their emotional distress was such that they decided inconveniencing him was acceptable.

They knocked on his door, calculating the proper force needed to produce a sound audible through his headphones.

Inside, Zylus cursed under his breath, and the game audio stopped suddenly. "Yesh, Lalna!" he called.

Lalna opened the door and leaned their torso into his room, ticking their thumbs together.

"Hello," they said. Zylus was sitting at his desk, a game frozen on the screen, his headphones around his neck. There was a controller sitting on his desk, powered on. He was tense, his heart rate quick and his breathing slightly accelerated. He wiped his hands on his trousers.

"Hi," he said. "What'sh . . . what'sh up?"

"May I come in?" Lalna asked.

"Yesh?" said Zylus, looking them up and down with his brows pulled together. Lalna stepped inside and shut the door behind them, then went right back to ticking their thumbs together.

"I am very concerned about something," they said, "and I believe you may be able to assist."

"Okay?" said Zylus. "Uh . . . go for it?"

Lalna played their sighing routine and adopted an expression of concern.

"I have read the contents of your blog in their entirety and examined several auxiliary sources and I have come to the conclusion that I am likely asexual."

Zylus's eyes got very wide, and he leaned back in his chair. He blinked at Lalna, opened and closed his mouth several times, and shook his head.

_"Oh,"_ he said at last, markers of surprise in his tone. "I— _oh._ Well. That'sh—that'sh . . . great! That'sh—I'm—congratulationsh! That'sh not an eashy thing to figure out, I'm . . . I'm really happy for you! Are you—what do you need from me? Advishe, or—or jusht shomeone to lishten and undershtand, or what? Becaushe, anything, anything you need, it'sh yoursh, I'm—holy shit! I'm jusht really happy for you, Lalna, thish ish great!"

He seemed genuinely pleased, judging by his tone and the smile on his face. His posture had opened up and become more relaxed, and his eyes were no longer darting away from Lalna to his computer screen.

"I am worried," Lalna admitted, chagrined by Zylus's reaction. Perhaps they ought to be feeling the same sort of elation he displayed, and there was something wrong with their personality matrix.

Zylus leaned his elbows on his knees and laced his hands together. "About what?" he asked.

Lalna shrugged. "I am scared Rythian will not like me anymore," they said quietly.

Zylus winced and sucked in a breath through his teeth. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Ooh, yeah, that'sh—that can be difficult. I guessh you . . . haven't talked to him about thish yet?"

"No," said Lalna. "And I am not certain I want to. He is already becoming more distant. I think he may suspect. He has been asking for sex less frequently as time progresses."

"Ish that . . . good or bad?" Zylus asked. "Shorry, I jusht . . . have no idea where you're coming from with that. Jusht . . . pleashe don't be detailed. Pleashe."

Lalna shrugged again. "I enjoy it, but I do not ask for it. It does not occur to me to ask."

Zylus took a breath and sighed it out, his lips pinched together. "Okay," he said. "But . . . sho why ish it a problem?"

Quietly, they said, "I am scared that soon he will not like me at all. Like he does not like Nilesy anymore."

"Oh, fucking hell," Zylus muttered. He rubbed his face and turned away. "If we're going to talk about Nileshy, I'm going to have a drink. Do you mind?"

"No," said Lalna.

"Thanksh," said Zylus. He reached under his desk and pulled out a glass bottle of clear liquid. He took a swig directly out of it, winced, and put it away. "Lalna, I'm going to let you in on a little shecret about Rythian and Nileshy, even though I shouldn't."

They tipped their head to the side. "If you shouldn't, then why are you going to?"

"Becaushe I'm not only a telepath, I'm alsho _noshy,_ and being noshy ish frushtrating ash hell if you have to keep everything shecret," he said, bitterness evident in his voice. "Lishten, Rythian and Nileshy are both, _both_ shtill madly in love with each other."

"They don't behave accordingly," Lalna observed, surprised.

"No, they don't, becaushe they're shtupid and alsho becaushe people don't make any goddamn shenshe," Zylus said.

"Zylus?" Lalna said, fear creeping up through their systems.

"Yesh?"

"Does Rythian sleep with Nilesy because I am not enough?"

"No," Zylus said immediately. "Rythian shleepsh with Nileshy becaushe he'sh a fucking idiot. You are _more_ than enough for _anyone,_ alwaysh, no matter what."

"But if I am not fulfilling Rythian's needs—"

Zylus slammed his hand down on his desk. "Then he should've _shaid_ shomething," he snarled. "Jeshush Chrisht, doesh he _ever_ talk about _anything?_ I'm going to kick hish assh one of theshe days, I shwear to God."

"Please don't," said Lalna. Many of their internal processes were requesting sadness, so they acquiesced. "I understand if I am incapable of providing necessary services and he is forced to seek them elsewhere."

_"Shervishesh?"_ Zylus said, his voice low and shaking. His face was a textbook image of anger. "That'sh it, I'm kicking hish assh."

"Please don't," Lalna repeated. "You are angry. I don't understand why."

Zylus took a deep breath, putting his hands over his face and rubbing his forehead.

_"I_ am . . ." he said carefully, "fed up with Rythian'sh shit. Usually I can handle it, but now that it'sh got you thinking you're not _good enough,_ I've fucking _had it._ That'sh the lasht goddamn shtraw. I'm not shupposhed to interfere with people'sh shit, but thish ish going too fucking far."

Lalna tipped their head to the side, puzzled. "Why?" they asked. "What's different about me? Nilesy has also been unhappy with Rythian's actions."

"Nileshy ishn't ashe," Zylus said, getting up out of his chair. "I don't messh with shexsh shtuff becaushe I don't fucking undershtand it. _Thish_ I undershtand. If you want me to, I'll go over there right now and tell him _exshactly_ what the fuck he'sh doing wrong and why it'sh hurting you."

"I do not want that," said Lalna. "I am not certain I even want him to know that I am asexual. I am afraid he will leave."

"Good fucking riddanshe," Zylus muttered, but he sat back down. He sighed. "Well. Fuck. What can I do?"

"I don't know," said Lalna. "I just wanted to tell someone. I thought that it was important."

"It _ish_ important," Zylus said. "It'sh definitely important. But . . . I alsho kind of undershtand not wanting to tell Rythian. It'sh shcary."

"Yes," said Lalna. "It is very scary."

Zylus sighed again, fiddling with his game controller, slouched back in his chair. "For what it'sh worth," he said, "I don't think he'll leave you. I think it'll be a relief, honeshtly, for the both of you. And I think I have a pretty good handle on people'sh reactionsh, becaushe I can shee inshide their headsh." He paused. "Mosht of them, anyway."

"Yes," said Lalna. They tipped their head to the side. "I have been wondering what the mechanism for your Powers—"

_"No,"_ Zylus snapped, rounding on them with markers of both fear and anger on his face. "No. Don't wonder. Don't wonder about me or my fucking Powersh, ever. You shtay the fuck out of that."

Lalna shrank back, confused and hurt. "Okay," they said. "I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you."

Zylus shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Shorry," he said. "Wash there anything elshe you needed from me?"

"No," Lalna said meekly.

"Then could you pleashe leave?"

"Okay," said Lalna. They let themselves out, trying to be as small as possible, trying to make as little noise as they could.

As they shut the door behind them, they heard the scraping of metal on glass as Zylus unscrewed the cap of the bottle under his desk again.

* * *

 

In order to pass the hours, Lalna settled in their room and set about reconstructing their thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. It had been one of the few things they'd been able to bring with them from Bristol, although they had begun a collection of pictures and knick-knacks in their new room that had become quite sizable after ten months of accumulation. They'd even begun work on a new bottle tree, which Zylus in particular had been helping with. He brought home empty bottles from work and left them outside Lalna's door in the night, although many of them were unsuitable due to being colorless. Lalna had not mentioned their requirements for bottles because they liked finding the little gifts in the morning, no matter if they were useable for the bottle tree or not. They were unsure if Zylus was aware that they knew it was he who left the bottles, but they hadn't found it necessary to bring it up.

The puzzle, on the other hand, they had thus far refused all assistance with. Their pattern recognition was such that they could construct the entire thing in a matter of minutes, if they laid out all the pieces in front of themselves to start off with—so they had chosen not to do that, but rather to take out one piece at a time and fit it accordingly. They had also considered inhibiting their pattern recognition software to make the task more difficult, but something in them revolted at the idea of suppressing parts of their own code.

Thus far, they had managed to piece together the outer rim and a few isolated patches. If they accumulated too many individual pieces that didn't fit with their current progress, they would scoop them up and put them back in the box before their software could construct the whole puzzle for them. Something about the meticulous slowness of the process was soothing, and it required just enough processing power that they didn't feel the need to think about anything else while they were doing it.

They had been working on the puzzle for ninety-six minutes when there was a knock at their door.

"Come in," they said, raising their voice sufficiently to be heard through the wood. The door opened and Nano poked her head in.

"Hey," she said. "I'm home, by the way."

"Welcome home," said Lalna. "How was work?"

"Eh, all right. What've you been up to?"

"Generally the same things I'm always up to," they said. This was close enough to the truth that it didn't trouble them particularly, although they felt compelled to add, "I talked to Zylus."

"Yeah? Nice, that sounds lovely. Listen, Lal, I was about to head out and get groceries, and I was wondering if you wanted to come. Y'know, get out of the house a bit, get used to being out in public, all that."

Lalna got up, abandoning the puzzle. Nano had never made such a request before, and as such, it took priority.

"I would like that," they said. They tipped their head to the side. "Will you also be getting medical care while we are out?"

"No, I'm fine," Nano said, waving a hand and making a face indicative of distaste. "I haven't even had to miss any work, I really don't think it's that big of a deal."

"It's necessary to obtain medical care," Lalna said. They clasped their hands and started ticking their thumbs together.

"It—yes, that's true," said Nano. "But . . . honestly I think I'm all right. It hasn't happened again since then, so . . . I'm starting to think maybe it was just a one-time thing, maybe, y'know, with the drinking and all. And I _really_ don't want to deal with any more doctors, so I'm just sort of . . . crossing my fingers and hoping for the best."

"That doesn't seem like a wise decision," Lalna said, making a worried face.

Nano sighed, hanging her head. "No, it really doesn't, but it's what I'm doing because . . . because humans like to pretend their problems aren't there and hope they go away. It keeps us sane."

"I see," said Lalna. "Would you like me to not bring it up again?"

"Please," said Nano. She raised her head again, her expression more neutral. "So. Grocery store?"

"Yes," said Lalna. "I'm excited."

"Yeah? Good. C'mon, I was on my way out. Unless you were in the middle of something?"

"No," they said. "I was just doing my puzzle. We can go now."

"Great. C'mon!"

She took them out to the car and let them in the passenger's side. She drove, pulling out of the community's car park and onto the main road.

"Mmkay, so," she said, getting into the left lane with a cursory glance over her shoulder. "Since it's sort of your first time out, it might be best if you avoid talking. Just at first, mind. I know you're not used to pretending to be human, so I don't want you to get overwhelmed, especially if people ask you things."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I won't talk."

"Thanks," she said. "Unless somebody asks you something, then you can answer. Just—don't mention YogLabs, or being a robot. And remember: your name's _Duncan,_ and mine's _Kim._ Okay? Don't use our real names at all."

"Okay," said Lalna. They started ticking their thumbs together again. "But I am not supposed to lie to you."

"It's—all right, Lal, calling me by a name that isn't my real one is okay. It's not lying."

"It _is_ lying," they said. "It isn't true, and therefore it's lying."

Nano sighed. She pulled up at a stoplight and waited in the left turn lane, the blinker clicking away placidly.

"All right," she said, "it's lying. Which is why I'm giving you permission to lie about this. Okay? It's not going to hurt anything. Trust me."

"All right," said Lalna. "But lying is wrong."

"I—well—yes," Nano said, apparently distressed. The light turned green and she turned, accelerating smoothly. "I realize that. But—"

She did not continue. They were nearly at the grocery store before she spoke again.

"You remember how Nilesy told you that everyone lies to nearly everybody they know?" she said.

"Yes," said Lalna.

"Okay, well, you're an _everyone_ now. And it's . . . okay to sometimes tell lies, as long as they're not hurting anyone."

"How will I know they aren't hurting anyone?" Lalna asked, tipping their head to the side.

"Well—well, at least for now, because I'm telling you so," Nano said. "I need you to trust me on this, okay? Using fake names and not saying where we're from or . . . what exactly we are, that's okay. That's not going to hurt anyone."

"Okay," said Lalna, nodding. "I trust you."

Soon after, they arrived at the grocery store, and Lalna tagged along with Nano as she got a trolley and started picking her way through the aisles. Lalna kept a running shopping list in their head at all times, and she frequently asked them what was on it. They ensured that all items on the list were obtained, although Nano spent a good deal of time staring at labels and apparently thinking. No one attempted to talk to the two of them, but even so, the presence of so many people around was making Lalna nervous. If anyone inquired, they were not certain they would be able to lie convincingly. They had so little practice, after all, and lies were such obvious things, huge and weighty and distinctly _wrong,_ no matter what Nano or Nilesy said.

By the time they were at the checkout, Lalna had retreated into silence, keeping their eyes down and their hands clasped. This posture, they had noted, generally discouraged people from speaking to anyone who used it. It was not foolproof, but it maximized their odds of remaining inconspicuous.

As inconspicuous as they could be while towering over literally everyone in the store, which detail they had also noted and were continuing to worry about.

Nano made small talk with the cashier, the stock phrases exchanged between humans who had nothing relevant to actually impart to each other. Lalna stayed out of it, listening but not really paying attention. They wished they had their rear cameras back, so they could tell if anyone was looking at them from behind.

"He okay?" the cashier asked suddenly, peering at them. The wrong pronoun shot through them like an electrical short. They felt their emotional indicator screens go dark, their systems automatically begin shutting down.

"Yeah, they're fine," Nano said quickly, taking her card out of her wallet. She touched their arm, and they managed to halt the shutdown. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

"Oh," said the cashier. _"They?_ Uh, yeah, sorry." She continued ringing up the groceries, bagging them up efficiently.

"Thanks," said Nano.

"Yeah, no worries," said the cashier. "Yeah, I got an autistic cousin, same thing happens to her sometimes."

"Aut—right," said Nano, cutting herself off. "Yeah, just—too much stimulus, I guess. They don't get out much."

The cashier nodded, then glanced at Nano and gave her smile. "Sorry, was that too much? I didn't mean to like, get all in your business or anything—"

"No, it's fine," said Nano. "Don't worry about it."

"Sure thing," said the cashier. She scanned the last bag of chewy candy—for Panda—and tapped her screen twice. "Okay, your total comes to one-twenty-six sixty-four."

Nano swiped her card and signed the little screen. She smiled at the cashier.

"Thanks," she said.

"Yep. Have a good one," the cashier responded.

Nano loaded the bags into the empty shopping trolley and jerked her head towards the door, looking at Lalna.

"C'mon, Duncan," she said, distorting the fabric of the universe with a single word. "Let's get home, all right?"

Lalna nodded and followed her out into the car park. The two of them loaded the groceries into the trunk and Lalna went to put the trolley away while Nano started the car's air conditioning. They got in and closed their door carefully. She started out of the car park, driving just below the speed limit.

"Doing all right, Lal?" she asked.

"I am undamaged," they said.

"I know. I'm sorry she got your pronouns wrong."

"Thank you," they said.

"I'm afraid that's probably going to happen a lot. It's okay to correct people, they're not usually going to . . . well, be as much of a dick about it as—as Xephos was."

Lalna nodded, but did not respond. This was a trick they had picked up from Rythian, who often did not respond when spoken to. The technique seemed to function as intended, because Nano did not speak to them again until they arrived back home.

"Overall, good trip?" she asked, helping them unload the groceries from the trunk.

They considered this. "I believe so," they said.

"Good. Let's go relax, yeah?"

"That would be nice," said Lalna.

Together, the two of them went inside and distributed the groceries appropriately between the two halves of the duplex. Afterwards, they settled in the lefthand living room and put on a movie. Lalna memorized it in its entirety, just to give their mind something to do other than analyze the events of the outing over and over again.

Eventually, Lyndon arrived and curled up in Lalna's lap, and that made things much better. Lyndon, at least, was very simple. Lyndon's actions and behaviors were always consistent and predictable, and he never required any form of dishonesty from Lalna.

They liked Lyndon very, _very_ much.

When the movie was over, Nano stretched her arms over her head and sighed.

"Well," she said, "anything else you want to do tonight, Lal? I haven't got anything on."

Lalna scratched Lyndon behind the ears, making him purr. They kept their eyes on the cat.

"I would like to tell you something," they said.

"Okay," said Nano. "Go for it."

They played their sighing routine. "I have done extensive research and I have concluded that I am likely asexual."

"Oh," said Nano. "Well that's—great! Good for you, Lal."

"Yes," Lalna said, unhappy. "I have been told so."

"Um. I guess I should—I've probably said some things, over the course of time, that were a bit . . . _insensitive?_ So I'm sorry for that. If I've made you uncomfortable or—or hurt you by . . . yeah. I'll do better."

"Thank you," they said, unable to lie the proper gratitude into their voice.

"Something wrong?"

They shrugged. "I have not told Rythian. I am scared to."

"Oh," said Nano. She put an arm around their shoulders, or at least as far around as she could reach. She patted their back. "Yeah. That's definitely scary. Anything I can do to help?"

"No," said Lalna. "I have concluded that I will have to tell him myself. It's better that way."

"That's . . . probably true," said Nano. "But if you ever need me, I'd be happy to help."

"Thank you," said Lalna.

She squeezed them, pressing her cheek to their arm. "I love you, Lal."

They leaned against her, just slightly, so as not to push her over.

"I love you too, Nano," they said.

"It's going to be all right," she told them.

"You don't know that."

"I—okay, that's fair. How's this, then: _you're_ going to be all right. No matter what."

"You don't know that, either," they said.

"I've got good evidence," she said. "Because you're very strong, and very smart, and you've got all of us here to support you, no matter what happens with Rythian. I think that's more than enough to see to it you're okay, no matter what. Y'know, given a bit of time."

They nodded. "Okay," they said. "Thank you. I'm still scared."

"I know. It's okay to be scared. I just want you to know that I'll be here if or when you need me."

"I do know that," said Lalna. "I appreciate the reminder, though."

"Anytime, love," said Nano. "Anytime."


	9. Chapter 8

Two uneventful weeks had passed since Nano had ended up in hospital. After the first week, most of the nervous tension had faded, although Nilesy still found himself watching her closely for any signs of distress. He tried as hard as he could not to do this, because he was sure it would make her uncomfortable, but most of the time he simply couldn't help it.

He wasn't sure if it was his own paranoia or a legitimate problem that made her seem consistently, if slightly, unwell. He decided to err on the side of caution and not bring it up to anyone. If it was really serious, he reasoned with himself, Nano would do something about it, being an intelligent and sensible human being.

In the mean time, he'd been putting a little more effort into work, just for the sake of getting his mind off of things. It kept him out most nights, which severely cut down on his time with Panda and Lomadia, but it also gave him an excuse to sleep until well past noon, which generally kept him away from Rythian and Nano.

It was also making him filthy fucking rich, which was never a detriment, even if the method of getting there prickled at what little conscience he had. Nilesy put it down to the fear of getting found out and ignored it.

By that Saturday, he was growing sick of the work anyway, not to mention missing his partners, so he called in to say he'd be taking the weekend off. His employer was disappointed, but made no objection—he had, after all, been doing such a stellar job these past two weeks, he'd earned a little time off.

It was midafternoon when he called, and with it done, he got dressed and left his room, wondering idly what might be in the fridge worth eating. Zylus and Panda were in the main room when he came in, although they were both sitting in silence, watching the corridor as he emerged from it. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at them.

"Sorry, have I interrupted something?" he inquired.

"No," said Panda, a little too quickly. Today's eyepatch was black and covered in glitter, and it made his whole face sparkle.

"You weren't talking about _me,_ were you?" Nilesy asked, grinning. He was suddenly not hungry anymore, a different kind of gnawing in his stomach. His face started itching.

"No!" said Panda. It was difficult to tell under the darkness of his skin, but he might have been blushing.

"Yes you were!" Nilesy accused, maintaining the playful lilt of his voice. "What've you been saying about me?"

"Nileshy, don't be paranoid," Zylus sighed, rolling his eyes. "We weren't talking about you."

"I wasn't—being _paranoid,"_ Nilesy said, although there was a squiggling little thought at the back of his head that assured him he had been. He rubbed his face and turned away, shrugging. "What _were_ you talking about, then?"

"Shcholarshipsh," said Zylus.

"Yeah?" said Nilesy. "You get any then, dear?"

"Um, I—n-no, not yet," said Panda.

"Ah, shame," said Nilesy. "Well, don't let me interrupt." He went on to the kitchen, listening perhaps more closely than was warranted.

"Shucksh about the international shtudent one," Zylus said.

"Y-yeah," said Panda. "Yeah, I—I thought that one was a shoo-in for sure, but . . . guess not. It's not a huge deal, there's still like, six more that might come in. And I could probably make do with work-study, if I only did part-time."

The two of them continued talking, and Nilesy allowed himself to tune out, focusing instead on finding something he could stomach. His appetite had deserted him, although he wasn't sure if it was the paranoia itself or the gentle reminder that it was groundless that had put him off. He put the kettle on, despite the temperature, because tea was generally a safe place to start.

As it rumbled on the stovetop, he continued foraging for something to eat. It must have been time for a shopping trip, because there was almost nothing there. He briefly considered ducking over to the other half of the duplex and raiding their fridge, but decided that it wasn't worth the risk of running into Rythian. Instead, he made do with a plain tortilla and a handful of carrot sticks.

When his tea was ready, he took it back into the main room, blowing the steam off of it. Zylus was occupying one of the armchairs and Lyndon was sprawled out in the other, so he settled himself on the couch and put his feet up on Panda's thighs, his back against the armrest.

"So," he said. "What's on the docket for today? Anybody got anything going on? I've taken the night off, if anybody's got anything they want to do."

He nudged Panda's stomach with his toes and winked at him when he looked up. Zylus rolled his eyes.

"If you two are going to get grossh, I'm leaving," he declared.

"Aw, _Zy,"_ Panda said. "You haven't got to leave."

"I did my part," Zylus said, raising his hands. "I'm out."

"Did your part for what, darling?" Nilesy inquired.

_Paranoid,_ his brain hissed at him.

"Shocializing," said Zylus. "And I'm _not_ shticking around if you two are going to shtart thinking thingsh at each other."

"What if I promise to be squeaky-clean in my thinking?" Nilesy asked, prodding Panda in the stomach again.

"Don't make promishesh you can't keep," Zylus said flatly.

Nilesy grinned. "Come now, Zylus, I can be positively puritanical when I want to be."

"I can tell you for a fact: you're not doing it right now."

"Aw, leave him alone, Niles," Panda said, patting Nilesy's shin. "We've got all night, anyway."

"It's no use, you'll have to distract me somehow, otherwise I'll go on thinking about scandalous things, like ankles and dancing."

"You're inshufferable," Zylus told him.

Nilesy grinned at him. "It's part of my fucking charm," he said.

* * *

 

Night did come, and Nilesy barely made it past dinner before he took Panda's hand and kissed his cheek and led him off giggling to his room. Zylus and Nano rolled their eyes as he left, although Lalna seemed clueless. Rythian had left as soon as dinner was over and Lomadia had headed off to work at sunset, so neither of them were around to comment.

The moment the door closed behind them, Panda pinned him to it and kissed him passionately, holding his face in his hands and pressing their bodies together. Nilesy wrapped his arms around Panda's waist and melted against him, already losing himself in the warmth of him.

"Where've you _been?"_ Panda said, breathless, trailing his hands down to Nilesy's collarbones and playing with the collar of his shirt.

Nilesy smiled at him, his neck tingling where Panda had touched it. "Working, dear," he said. "You know the old saying. More money, more bitches."

Panda burst out laughing, and Nilesy kissed his nose, his cheek, his neck, picked him up and carried him to bed. Panda wrapped his legs around Nilesy's waist and let himself be carried, but the moment they were in bed he flipped Nilesy onto his back and held him down by his shoulders, sitting on his hips and going right back to kissing him. Nilesy got a hand under Panda's shirt and very soon after they were both of them shirtless, and Nilesy let his hands rove over the expanses of Panda's back and chest, relearning the patterns of his scars, tasting the sweetness on his breath and sinking into the warm fog rising up around his mind.

Panda started to sit up, and Nilesy chased after him until he put a hand on his chest and held him down.

"Where're you—where are you _going?"_ Nilesy whined, petulant, although he couldn't keep from smiling.

Panda bit his lip and looked away. He was sitting on Nilesy's hips, warm and heavy and enticing.

"I, um," he said. "I wanted to . . . try something. If—if that's all right with you."

Nilesy's smile cracked open into a grin. "I _love_ trying things. What sort of something?"

"Well—" said Panda. He glanced at Nilesy, licked his lips, and dropped his gaze.

There was a flicker of movement and suddenly there was a knife at Nilesy's throat, cool and steady, drawing a thin line of pressure into his skin. His breath caught, his heart skipped a beat, fireworks burst all through him and all he could think was _fucking finally._

"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary," he said, his voice shaking. "Took you fuckin' long enough."

Panda grinned, a light in his eye. He bit his lip again and shifted his hips, setting off another volley of fireworks.

"I might've had help," he admitted. "Somebody might've let it slip."

"You _filthy_ cheater," Nilesy breathed, rapturous. Panda leaned in and whispered in his ear.

_"Hairline to hips,_ Zy said." His breath was hot. The knife trailed down Nilesy's neck and came to rest, point-down, above his heart. Nilesy shivered, his mind starting to sink into soft clouds of vapor. "And when I've got done teasing you, I'm going to carve my initials in you like a tree, 'cause I can't stand that Rythian's got to put a scar on you and I haven't. And him not even sticking about to enjoy it, tch."

Nilesy made a noise halfway between a whimper and a moan. Panda kissed him, touching his neck. Nilesy's eyes rolled back in his head.

"What's your color, lover?" Panda murmured, tracing patterns on the handprint above his heart. It took Nilesy a good fifteen seconds to find his voice, struggling against the tide of warmth.

"Green," he said. "So fucking green, Jesus Christ."

Panda kissed him again, sat back on his hips and placed the blade of the knife against Nilesy's lips.

"Super," he said. "Tell me if it changes. Otherwise, not a _word_ out of you. Understand?"

Nilesy kissed the blade, unable to focus his eyes, his heart thudding in his chest like a drum. Panda smiled, shaking his head.

"Fucking hell, it's fun to get you fucked up," he said.

The knife left his lips, and Nilesy's eyes drifted closed. The air scintillated in his lungs, and when the point of the blade touched his forehead, just at the hairline, a flood of heat washed through him, making him want to squirm, bubbling moans onto his lips and leaving an ache in his belly. The point of the knife began a slow slide along his hairline, drawing a cold and tingling line on his skin, and—

White walls white coats white pills his face they were taking his _face_ he couldn't reach his Powers the stench of antiseptic and brine white walls white coats blue gloves his face his _face_ he couldn't move couldn't fight couldn't think couldn't breathe they were cutting off his _face—_

_There's my Liam._

And he was gone.

* * *

 

"Take that silly thing off, Liam," Dad said, scowling down at him with his arms folded.

"No," said Liam, balling his fists and scowling right back. "I've told you, I can't talk without it. I'm not taking it off. It's my face now. You wouldn't take off _your_ face."

Dad rolled his eyes. Katie, at his elbow, was shaking her head. She gestured to Liam helplessly.

"I thought I told you not to let him do this," Dad said to her, before she could speak. "It was charming at first, but if he's ever to rejoin normal society, it's unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Xephos," Katie said, her vowels round and shapely with her Scottish accent. "He won't cooperate without it. The only way we get anything at all out of him is if we let him keep it. He's been making some progress—"

"Clearly he hasn't," Dad interrupted, sharpish. "Since he's still got that silly thing on his face. Liam, take it _off."_

"I won't," said Liam. His heart was hammering in his chest. Dad didn't know his little secret yet, but he'd find out soon enough, and _then_ what would he do?

"Very well, then I'll do it for you," said Dad. He reached out a hand to pluck the mask from Liam's face. He pinched a bit of the thick paper and pulled. There was a tug at Liam's face, and then the paper tore. Liam clenched his fists and drew himself up as tall as he could.

"I told you," he said, his voice shaking and reedy. "It's my face now."

Dad looked at the bit of paper in his hand, and then at Liam. Liam shrank back. Dad had gone hard and cold as stone.

"Katherine," he said, and his voice was low and furious. "Has he, perhaps, also had access to _glue_ in the past day?"

Katie took a step back from Dad, her face gone sickly. "I—oh dear, this is—well, nothing to worry about, sir, a-a bit of water and soap and it'll come right off—"

Dad's hand shot out again, and Liam tried to run, but he wasn't fast enough. Dad caught him by the forearm, his grip bruising-tight. Liam screamed and thrashed, begging, crying. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Dr. Xephos? Sir, where are you taking him?" Katie asked, tagging along at Dad's elbow while he dragged Liam down the corridor.

"I am teaching him a lesson," Dad said. Liam redoubled his efforts to get away, going so far as to kick his father in the shins. Dad yanked on his arm, hard, pulling Liam off his feet and forcing him to stumble and scramble or else be dragged.

"Sir, I really don't think this is productive," Katie said. "It's really best if you let the staff handle this—"

"Clearly you _haven't_ been handling it," Dad said coldly, "so I am being forced to. Liam, stop squirming this _instant_ or I shall have you restrained."

"Please," Liam gasped, too scared to stop struggling, thinking of nothing but escape. "Please, no, please, Dad, no—"

"Nurse," Dad said. "Your patient is violent and uncooperative. Kindly assist me in restraining him."

_"No!"_ Liam screamed, thrashing in Xephos's grip, striking out at him. "No, no, no!"

"He's a child!" Katie cried.

"He's a little brat, and he's going to learn that it's unacceptable," Dad responded. "God's sake, I pay you people through the nose and you make no progress whatsoever, the very _least_ you could do is assist me. Or shall I inform your superiors that you are allowing a dangerous patient to _attack_ a paying sponsor? Liam, if you strike me again, I shall be forced punish you."

Fear swallowed him up, left him weak and helpless, and he collapsed to the floor, screaming and sobbing. Dad picked him up. There were more nurses now, drawn by the commotion, the ones that weren't so friendly as Katie, the ones that didn't listen to him, the ones that forced the pills down his throat and crumpled up his paper faces. Weakly, he started to struggle again, and Dad handed him off to two nurses. They took him to a white room, white walls and floor and ceiling, and there was one of the metal beds with the straps, and then he _really_ started struggling, but even with his new face he couldn't find the strength to get away, and they strapped him down while he screamed and cried, his tears soaking into the thick paper and making it flimsy.

"I'm afraid he's glued part of it to his hair," Dad was saying to one of the nurses. He was putting on blue gloves.

"Dad," Liam gasped. "Dad, please, no—"

"Be quiet, Liam," Dad said, his voice gentle.

Liam squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to breathe. It was too soon, much too soon, he'd only managed to skip three doses, but he reached out anyway, reached out for anything that would help him. It made his head hurt like it was going to burst, made his heart stutter and pain shoot through his chest, but something heard him calling.

Dad stood over him, smiling nicely. There was a scalpel in his hand.

"Now," he said. "Let's get you out from under there, shall we?"

"No," Liam moaned. "No, please—"

"Shh, shh, it's all right," Dad said. The blade started coming down towards his face. Liam thrashed, screaming, and Dad caught his jaw in one iron hand, holding him still. Liam twisted his wrists against the restraints, whimpering.

_Help me,_ he thought, clenching his teeth and breathing short and sharp through his nose, pulling with all the Power in him.

Somewhere in the room, glass rattled against metal. Dad stiffened, and someone sucked in a sharp breath.

_Please,_ he thought. _Please get me out of here._

"Liam," Dad said, and the anger was back in his voice, back in the way his hand was bruising Liam's jaw. "Have you been spitting out your medication again?"

Liam couldn't answer, gripped by fear and panic and his father's iron hand, trembling and gasping for breath.

"Sedate him, please," Dad said, his voice cold.

Liam let out a sharp cry and started struggling again. Somewhere in the room, glass shattered. The water was coming to help him, finally, after so long abandoning him—

Something pricked him in the shoulder, and he cried out again. The slow sleep was oozing through his veins already, making him stupid and weak. He struggled as long as he could, but they always gave him so much, and soon he couldn't even move his head, his lips and fingers numb and his heart barely beating.

"Thank you," Dad said. "I believe I will be requesting he be transferred to a different primary nurse. Allowing him to maintain this idiotic mask business is bad enough, but if Katherine is incapable of keeping him properly medicated, she's a danger to herself and others."

"Yes, sir," said one of the nurses. Dad turned back to Liam.

"Now," he said.

The scalpel came down. Liam couldn't even find the strength to beg. He cried, the tears oozing through the mask. The scalpel traced his hairline, slicing his face away, and then it slipped under the edges of his paper skin and cut it away, and then Dad peeled his face off, slow and steady and painful, ripping out his eyebrow hairs and freeing his tears to slide down warm into his ears. Dad smiled.

"There's my Liam," he said warmly. "Now. What have we learned from all this?"

Liam couldn't speak. His face was gone, his little layer of protection, leaving him cold and naked and voiceless, and the sedative made him slow and weak. He whimpered, unable to part his lips. Dad sighed.

"I can see we're not getting anything useful out of you today," he said. He crumpled up Liam's face and tossed it into the bin in the corner. "Someone take him back to his room, please. I don't think I shall be staying, but do let me know who his new primary is."

Dad left, and then the nurses left, and they didn't even untie him from the metal bed, just wheeled him off to a different room and turned out the lights. Someone came and put a tube in his mouth, pushed it down his throat and made him gag, and they forced him to take his medicine like that, and no matter how he tried he couldn't even fight. . . .

* * *

 

"—Nilesy?"

Someone was holding him down. The white was melting off the walls, the smell of brine and antiseptic fading. There was a cut on his head, blood in his hair. His body was aching, his head splitting, his breath coming short and uneven while his heart pounded like mad.

His mask was on.

He tried to reach up and touch it, but there were hands on his elbows, impossibly strong. He whimpered, swatting weakly at them. Carefully, they let him go. He touched the mask—cool plastic rather than flimsy construction paper, securely in place. The world started coming back into focus, one piece at a time.

"Sib?" he said, his voice hoarse and shaking.

"Yes," said Lalna, still leaning over him. Their eyes were white and wide, their eyebrows pulled up in exaggerated worry. "Zylus is here too. He put your mask on. He says you were having a flashback."

Sore and trembling, he tried to sit up. Lalna helped him, putting a steady hand on his back.

"Panda. . . ?" Nilesy said. His head was spinning, fear still thick in his veins. Even with the mask, he couldn't breathe properly. The walls kept flickering with white.

"I'm okay," Panda said faintly. He was on the floor, picking himself up gingerly. "Just a couple bruises, nothing bad."

"I . . . hurt you?" Nilesy asked, tears rising in his eyes. His cheeks were already wet, his nose already running. His knuckles ached with bruises. The roar in his head kicked up another notch. He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head just in time to see Zylus go into the bathroom. Nano was standing in the doorway to the corridor, white-faced and scowling. Nilesy reached up and touched the mask again with cold and shaking fingertips. Distantly, there was the gush of running water.

"Not—well, I mean, yeah," Panda said. "But not a lot. You sort of—chucked me across the room. And there was lots of screaming, and you sort of hid in the corner and Zylus came in looking like he'd got a screwdriver stuck in his head and you sort of . . . chucked _him_ against the wall, too, which is why we got Lalna in. You wouldn't stop hitting them and we were scared you were going to hurt yourself so . . . um, yeah. I guess you sort of calmed down a bit when they got to . . . holding you down, which is how Zylus managed to get the—the . . . your . . . mask. On. Um. Look, Niles, I'm—I'm really sorry, I don't—I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

Nilesy got out of bed, mechanically. His legs were shaking almost too hard to support him, and Lalna had to hold him up. He started making a determined stumble towards the bathroom, where the rushing water was.

"O-oh, um, are you—are you going? Okay, um, all right, I'll—I'll just . . . I'll stay here," Panda said. His voice was high and choked. Nilesy couldn't make himself look at him.

Lalna helped him to the bathroom, and Nilesy extracted himself from their grip at the door. The bathtub was already half-full, somehow, though it didn't feel like enough time had passed since the water had started gushing. Zylus was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, his face drawn and pale. Nilesy staggered in and dropped to his knees next to the tub, gripped the sides, and dunked his head in.

_One, two, three. . . ._

Somewhere after forty-five seconds he lost count, and his body jerked his head back above the surface of its own accord. He gasped and sputtered, his sinuses full of stinging water, and plunged himself under again, his bones rattling with the force of his tremors.

_One, two, three. . . ._

Again, he couldn't hold his head under, lost count, and came up coughing and crying, full of tumult and anguish, feeling more helpless than ever, wanting nothing more than to drown out all this wretched fear and unable to make himself do it, too weak to even control his own body.

A strong hand gripped the back of his head and pushed him under. He twitched in alarm at first, and then, as his lungs began to burn, he struggled, pushing his feet along the tiles and shoving against the edge of the tub, his whole body jerking with the primal _need_ for air, and a second hand joined the first on the back of his head and the air bubbled from his lungs and he could do nothing but gasp in a breath of lukewarm water—

Pain seared through him, and his body twitched again, his hand slammed against the side of the tub so hard it made his whole arm tingle, but after the second gasp of pain he went numb, floating away from his body on warm dark seas, his mind gone quiet. He went limp, his eyes half-open, sweat prickling cool on his bare back and sticking his jeans to his thighs.

The hands let go of his head and left him alone with the comforting roar of the water in his ears.


	10. Chapter 9

Zylus sat back, taking his hands off the back of Nilesy's head. He moved away and put his back to the wall, pulling up his knees and resting his elbows on them. Water dripped from his fingertips, and his head thunked against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Jeshush fucking _Chrisht_ I need a drink," he croaked.

"Would you like me to get you one?" Lalna asked, ticking their thumbs together.

"Jusht get the bottle under my deshk," Zylus said, not opening his eyes. Lalna moved off, leaving Nano standing in the doorway by herself.

"Fuck," she said.

"Yep," said Zylus.

"That was . . . okay, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: that was fucked up."

"Which part? The flashback, or me fucking drowning him in the bathtub?"

"I was . . . mostly thinking of the second bit, yeah," Nano admitted.

"You're telling me," Zylus said heavily. Lalna came back, their weight making the floorboards creak, and Zylus held out a hand. "Bottle pleashe."

"Okay," said Lalna. They put the bottle—some kind of flavored vodka, by the looks of it—in his hand, and he unscrewed the cap and took a long pull straight out of it. He winced and coughed, shaking his head, and then took another long drink.

Slowly, Nilesy slithered into the tub, until only his knees were sticking out. Nano came into the bathroom and sat on the toilet.

"Give me some of that," she said to Zylus, holding out a hand.

"No," he said. "Your shtomach'sh all fucked up, no liquor for you."

"Fuck you, I don't care."

"Fuck up your shtomach with your own liquor, you're not ushing mine. I've fucked up enough thingsh today." He took another gulp of vodka. He still had not opened his eyes.

"I am going to stay with Panda," Lalna said. "If that is all right."

"That sounds like a good idea, Lal, you do that," said Nano. "Thank you for helping with this."

They nodded. "Please make sure Nilesy remains okay."

"I will," she promised. Lalna left, leaving the door to Nilesy's room open behind them. Nano got up and shut it. Zylus took another swig from his bottle.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, a shiver running through him. "Thish ish gonna be at _leasht_ two new nightmaresh."

Nano was quiet for a moment, trying to look at neither Zylus nor Nilesy.

"You knew," she said at last. "That he kept the mask."

Zylus took another drink. "Yesh," he said.

"All this time? You _knew_ he lied about throwing it away, and you never thought to mention it?"

"Shome shecretsh aren't mine to give away," he said.

"But _this?_ You didn't think this was maybe a _little_ more important than—than courtesy?"

"He _can_ actually hear you," Zylus said, fixing her with a penetrating stare. His eyes were bloodshot.

"I don't care, it doesn't matter," said Nano. "I'm talking about _you._ I get why _he_ lied about it, I want to know why _you_ didn't say anything!"

"Becaushe it'sh jusht a fucking mashk, Nano," he said. "It doeshn't mean anything. You don't shee Rythian throwing away _hish_ mashk, jusht becaushe he doeshn't need it mosht of the time."

"That's different," said Nano.

"Not much," said Zylus. "Beshidesh, after all the shit that jusht happened, you can't tell me you're not glad he kept it. I'm not drunk yet, I can tell."

"Get the fuck out of my head," Nano snapped.

"Working on it," Zylus said blandly, and took another drink.

"And you don't think this might be _slightly_ serious? You don't think this just _might_ be cause for concern?"

"I'll let you in on a little shecret, Nano," Zylus said. "Nothing ish any more sherioush now than it hash been for monthsh."

"Oh _really?_ You call this normal, then?"

Zylus gestured vaguely to Nilesy. "He putsh on a good act," he said. "But that'sh all it ish. An act. Or did you not notishe how he'sh shtill been waking up shcreaming and drowning himshelf every couple weeksh? He hashn't gotten any _better._ If anything it'sh gotten worshe shinshe he shtopped killing people."

"But he _has_ stopped killing people," Nano said.

Zylus drank again. "And shinshe that'sh the _important_ part," he said, "don't worry about it. He'sh not going to shuddenly shtart again jusht becaushe I gave him a fucking flashback."

Nano raised her eyebrows. _"You_ gave him a flashback?" she asked, dubious.

Zylus's jaw clenched. His hand tightened on the neck of the bottle. He took another, longer drink.

"I . . . shaid shome thingsh to Panda that got—that might have . . . contributed," he said.

"That's not really the same thing as _giving_ someone a flashback, love," she said, softening.

He shrugged, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I jusht . . . I feel _reshponshible._ Like I—I should have known. I should've known thish would happen, or shomething like it, I . . . yeah."

Nano sighed, glancing over at Nilesy. He looked quite dead, nearly as pale as the mask on his face, motionless. She looked away again.

"Are . . . _you_ all right?" she asked Zylus.

"Hah!" he said. He took another drink, then levered himself to his feet, sliding his shoulders up the wall. "I'm going to jusht . . . go to bed. Before I fuck up anything elshe. If that'sh all right with you. You can probably get Panda or Lalna to look after Nileshy."

"I think I'll actually stay," said Nano, "but thank you."

Zylus shrugged. "Shuit yourshelf," he said.

He left the bathroom through Lomadia's empty room, slightly unsteady on his bare feet. When he had gone, Nano sighed and put her head in her hands. Inexorably, her eyes were drawn to Nilesy, lying pale and still in the bathtub.

"You are so fucked up," she muttered.

One clammy hand raised out of the water and flipped her off.

* * *

 

Nano slept fitfully on the couch that night, waiting for Lomadia to get home so she could relay the events of the evening. At one point, Rythian wandered in, looking nervy and illicit. He didn't say anything, just spotted Nano pretending to sleep on the couch and snuck right back out the door again. She had decided that somebody else could explain to _him_ what all the screaming had been about.

Just as dawn was graying the sky outside, the door opened again and Lomadia slipped in, shaking out her wings. Nano sat up, rubbing her eyes, unsure if she'd been asleep up to that point but certainly wishing she could be that way now.

"Hi," Lomadia said, puzzled, looking her up and down. "Why're you in here?"

"Hi, sweetheart," Nano said. She held out her hands and Lomadia came over to hold them. "Something's happened with Nilesy while you were out. He's okay, everybody's okay, just . . . I thought you should know about it before you went back to see him."

"Oh," said Lomadia. "Okay. What happened?"

"He . . . had some sort of flashback, or something, I dunno. There was a lot of screaming, and I s'pose the upshot is: it ended with him drowning himself in the tub and I think he's sleeping on Lalna right now."

Lomadia nodded. "That happens sometimes. He has bad dreams."

"This was . . . a bit more than that, I think," said Nano. She fidgeted. "Lom, sweetheart, did you know he kept the mask?"

"No," said Lomadia. "But I'm not surprised. It's his face, you don't throw away your face."

"Yes, but . . . didn't he used to, y'know, _kill_ people in it?"

"He did lots of things in the mask," said Lomadia. "Sometimes he killed people, but mostly it was just so he could talk and stuff. Like, around new people. His voice gets scared off if it doesn't have something to hide in. Like a fish."

Nano looked at her for a long moment, taking in her unconcerned expression, her huge golden eyes and the fluff of her wings.

"It really doesn't bother you, does it," she murmured. "That he's a murderer."

Lomadia shrugged her wings. "So'm I," she said.

"Well—" said Nano, and stopped. She bit her lip and looked away. "I sort of feel like that's a bit different, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"Well— _because_ of _why,"_ said Nano. "Why _you_ killed people and why _he_ killed people. It's different."

"Not really," said Lomadia. "I just only killed bad people, so nobody really minded. Nilesy doesn't think there's such a thing as good or bad people, so he doesn't bother picking."

_"Doesn't,_ or didn't?" Nano asked, peering at Lomadia with a grimy suspicion in her heart.

"I dunno," said Lomadia. "He hasn't killed anybody in _ages."_

Nano hesitated, then asked, "Do you _know_ why he did it? Killed people, I mean."

"Because it's fun," said Lomadia. She hesitated, then added, "I guess."

"You _guess?"_

She shrugged. "I dunno. Nilesy says lots of things. He never really seemed like he was having fun, at least after. And he didn't do it lots, which doesn't make sense if it was fun. I dunno. He _said_ it was fun."

"I'm just worried," Nano said. "That he's going to go back to it. We really can't afford that, and I—I dunno, if there's a way to keep him off it, I want to know what it is."

Lomadia shook her head. "You can't," she said. "You can't stop him, otherwise bad things happen."

"What . . . _sort_ of bad things, sweetheart?" Nano asked, trying to keep the apprehension out of her voice and failing.

"I dunno," said Lomadia. She turned her head away, took her hands out of Nano's and crossed her arms. Her wings folded in close to her back, shrinking her silhouette. "Sometimes he went in the tub. I thought he was dead. I used to have to pull him out all the time and it was awful because he was always hurt and scared and sometimes he didn't know who I was. That's why I don't pull him out anymore. I did it too much and I can't anymore."

"That's . . . understandable," said Nano. She herself had not taken charge of getting Nilesy out of the tub this time, preferring to leave it up to Lalna, but she'd been privy to the aftermath more than once before. That was part of why she'd let Lalna handle it. "But is that _it?_ Is that really the worst that happens?"

"Oh no," said Lomadia, shaking her head. "I stopped trying to stop him because one time he put _me_ in the tub."

Nano's whole body went cold. "He did _what?"_ she said slowly.

Lomadia shrugged again, fidgeting. "It was _ages_ ago. He didn't mean it."

"He tried to fucking _murder_ you, and you stayed with him _anyway?"_ Nano demanded, her voice rising of its own accord.

"He didn't mean it," Lomadia repeated. "Or maybe he sort of did, but he also sort of didn't. And he didn't _actually_ kill me. He didn't really hurt me at all. He put me in the tub and then I knocked his spare face off and . . . then. . . ."

She trailed off. Nano steeled herself, although there was a sickness rising in her belly.

"And _then?"_ she said through gritted teeth.

"Then he hung himself up in his closet and he almost died," Lomadia mumbled. Her voice was shaking. "He didn't talk for a month because he couldn't wear his face anymore and he was scared all the time. He tried to get me to go away but I didn't want to. In case he hung himself up again."

Nano took a deep breath, trying to let her anger simmer down before she said something she didn't mean. The nausea was not subsiding, and her fingers were aching from clenching her fists.

"Sweetheart," she said, "is that the _only_ time he's ever hurt you?"

"He didn't hurt me," Lomadia said. "He's never hurt me."

"Is that the only time he's _tried?"_

Lomadia looked over at her, eyes narrowed. "Yes," she said. "Why? Why're you asking all this stuff?"

"Fuck's sake, Lom, because he tried to kill you!" Nano cried. "You don't see anything _wrong_ with that? You can't stay with a person who does that to you!"

"Says who?" Lomadia demanded, her wings flaring out behind her.

"I dunno, _common fucking sense?"_ Nano retorted. "That's _beyond_ abuse, that's—that's fucked up! Jesus Christ, what's he been _doing_ to you all this time?"

"You just hate him," Lomadia said. "You've always just hated him, you don't care that his head's messed up."

"It doesn't _matter_ if his stupid head is messed up. He can't _do_ this to you and fucking get away with it!"

"Do what? Do _what?_ I told you he didn't hurt me and you're not listening. I don't care. I love him!"

"Well maybe you _shouldn't!"_

Lomadia stared at her, eyes wide and lips pinched. She drew herself up to her full height, her wings brushing the ceiling, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Maybe I shouldn't love _you,"_ she said softly. The words shot through Nano like a cannonball, leaving a huge and gaping wound in their wake, spraying splinters all through her insides. Lomadia turned and stalked from the room, talons clicking on the floor.

"Lom—Lom wait—" Nano croaked, reaching out for her.

"Don't follow me!" Lomadia called back. There was the sound of a door slamming.

Nano knelt there on the couch, feeling her world crumble around her. Tears started rolling down her face, tremors wracking her body, and she curled up on the couch and sobbed herself sick.

Then she went to the kitchen and threw up another stomachful of blood.

* * *

 

After the fight with Lomadia, Nano locked herself in her room under the pretense of getting some sleep. She didn't even get into bed, however, knowing that she was far too wound up to rest. Her stomach hurt, and the pain was making her nauseous, although she couldn't tell if it was through its own merits or because of the anxiety it caused her. She spent a few hours trawling the internet, at first trying to find a benign explanation for throwing up blood and then, when that failed, trying to find a doctor in the Vegas area who specialized in Powered patients.

There were remarkably few, and none of them were a part of the federally-funded healthcare system, meaning that despite being employed by a U. S. company, she would have to pay out of pocket for every last appointment.

This, she considered, was probably not a coincidence.

Stymied, frustrated, she pulled up her instant messenger program and sent a quick greeting to Zoey. She had routed this particular program through seven different proxies, the order of which was randomized every time she opened it. It was the closest thing to untraceable she'd managed to concoct, and thus far it seemed to have stood her in good stead.

_Hey Zo. Got a minute?_

The cursor blinked placidly at her. Nothing else on the screen changed. Nano put her head in her hands and tried to breathe deeply.

If she told the others, they'd force her to see a doctor. There were no two ways about it—they were all so high-strung with regards to her welfare that the slightest hiccup would be treated as a catastrophe. It made sense, and the more logical part of her knew that it was the right decision regardless of what the others would do. Still, there was another part, smaller but more vocal, that rebelled against the idea of being told, yet again, that there was nothing wrong with her. What was the point, it said, of spending all that time and effort just to be snubbed again? To be patronized, condescended to, dismissed? Why put herself through that, compounded with the dire and exhausting concern of her friends?

Nano chewed on the issue for a time, staring at her computer screen without seeing. Finally, movement caught her eye, and she realized that Zoey had answered her message.

_Hiya! I've got loads of minutes, what's up?_

She put her fingers on the keys to respond, then stopped, wondering what she would say. She bit her lip, then steeled herself and replied.

_I'm... really ill, Zo. Like, *really* ill. And I'm scared and I don't know what to do._

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, and a moment later the reply came in from Zoey.

_Oh, gosh!!! Oh my goodness, that's horrible!! What's wrong, what's happened? Are you okay???_

An instant later, a second message popped up.

_Sorry that was a stupid question, of course you're not okay, I'm sorry._

Nano managed to smile, although her eyes were brimming with tears and there was a hollow ache in her chest. Typing carefully, she explained the issue to Zoey in its entirety, including the ER doctor's dismissal and the inevitable worry of the rest of the crew.

_Mmkay, but so like, there's other doctors, right? That, like, are specially for Powered people?_ Zoey asked, when she had done.

_Yeah, but they're ridiculously expensive, and there's no telling if they're actually any good,_ Nano replied. She blew her nose and wiped the tears from her eyes, but more just came to replace them.

_Ooo yeah that's no good. But I think you probably should go see somebody. I know everybody'll be all scared and stuff, but......maybe you could just tell one of them, or something?? Somebody who wouldn't freak out, and then THEY can tell everybody else instead of you having to??_

_But they'll still be all over me,_ Nano said. _I just want to be left alone, honestly. I can't stand having people worry over me._

_Well.......I dunno. I think probably if you told them that, then they'd leave you alone, probably. Maybe. R would, he's good at that kind of stuff._

_What, leaving people alone? Not from what *I've* seen._

_Okay well maybe not, but I bet Zy would. He seems like he's really calm and stuff about everything._

Nano stared at this sentence for a time, marveling in the irony of it.

_That might work,_ she said, choosing to leave Zylus's cover intact. If he was going to go to all the trouble of hiding the fact that he was a nervous wreck, she wasn't going to spoil it for him. On the other hand, one thing he could _certainly_ do was keep a secret, so he remained the ideal candidate, if not the only one. Panda, at least, had already proven himself more than capable of keeping calm in this particular crisis.

_Are you okay for now?? Like not dying or anything??_ Zoey asked.

_I think so. It seems to only happen once and then stop. At least so far, fingers crossed it stays that way. I really appreciate this, Zo, honestly._

_Mmhm, of course! I bet I could come out there if you wanted, Fi and me both could, but I guess you probably wouldn't want that because it would just be more people hovering about and you already said you don't want that so sorry for suggesting it whoops_

Nano cracked a smile and wiped her eyes again.

_You're fantastic, Zo,_ she said. _Thank you again._

_Anytime!!_

After a moment, Nano typed, _So how are things in Malmo?_

_Oh, it's super nice here,_ Zoey responded immediately. _It was pretty horrible during the winter with all the snow and everything, but it's gotten all warm and green and lovely and the people are super-duper nice and we're learning loads of Swedish and Fi's even got a speech therapist now._

_That sounds wonderful,_ said Nano. _Did she end up going for surgery, in the end? I can't remember._

_Nope,_ said Zoey. _She decided it's badass only having half a face, and anyway she can still see out of both eyes and her ear works fine even if it doesn't have the outside bit and really the only problem is with her mouth and the speech therapy is really helping with that so it's all good._

_As someone with half a face, I sympathize,_ Nano said. _It *is* pretty badass, though, I agree._

_You could make a club!! Ooo I bet I could make, like, patches and stuff for the half-face club or something, it'll be super cool. What should go on them?? I'm a super good fashion designer, I bet I could make something really good out of anything._

Nano sat back and let her ramble on, taking comfort in the indelible energy of her. No matter what, she thought, you could always count on Zoey.


	11. Chapter 10

It was bound to be a sleepless night.

Panda stood barefoot in the kitchen, looking down at his meter, Hadaly. She was showing 486, silently berating him for his carelessness. He stuck his finger in his mouth, hardly even noticing the taste of blood. Hadaly got turned off and dumped on the counter, where she couldn't judge him anymore. He got himself a glass of water and chugged it, trying to get his mind focused enough to do the necessary calculations for a correction dose of insulin.

He couldn't do it. His back and shoulders were one big bruise, his neck stiff from whiplash. His insides were all asquirm with the sensation of being manipulated, the clenched fist of Nilesy's Power leaving them tender. The screams were still ringing in his ears, the cracked and ragged sobbing as Nilesy wedged himself in the corner, eyes wide and unseeing.

Panda shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. He shut his eye and tried to breathe deeply, but he was shaking too hard to do it. He couldn't tell if it was fear or high blood sugar that was making him tremble, and it didn't particularly matter, because in his current state he couldn't fix either one.

He couldn't fix much of anything, really. Even when he'd tried to do something nice for Nilesy, tried to help him unwind and forget about Rythian and Nano and all the other bullshit going on, he'd fucked it up so royally he could've been crowned right then and there. Panda, King of Fuck-Ups, First of His Name and literal worst boyfriend in the history of the fucking world.

A sob pushed at the back of his lips and he pressed his palm over his mouth, scrunching up his face and shuddering. Nano was asleep on the couch in the next room, and he couldn't let himself wake her, half because she needed her rest and half because he couldn't stand to face her after what he'd done.

 _You're all fucked up because you're high, Panda,_ he told himself, the words flimsy. _It's not that bad._

He stood for a few minutes more, keeping his hand over his mouth and his eye squeezed closed, trembling while his thoughts tumbled over themselves like shoes in a dryer. Somehow, he came to the conclusion that there was only one person left he hadn't pissed off or hurt, only one person he could turn to for help.

Unsteady, he made his way back to Nilesy's room. He knocked gently at the door, the sound grating on his ears and stiffening his spine.

"Come in," Lalna said from within.

Panda opened the door and slipped in, his heart pounding, his hands shaking.

Lalna was sitting on Nilesy's bed, their back against the wall, their eyes glowing a faint purple. Nilesy was curled up with his head on their huge thigh, back to the door. He was still wearing the mask, the elastic band tight across the back of his head, and his hair was damp. Someone had put a t-shirt on him at some point. The sight of him cracked Panda's sternum, caving his chest in with the force of a swung mace. Lalna had a hand on his shoulder, sitting perfectly still.

"Um," said Panda. He tried to speak just above a whisper, and it made his voice crackle in and out like a bad radio. "I—I've got . . . I could use your help."

"I can't leave here," Lalna said. They looked down at Nilesy and their eyes grew paler. "He became very upset when I tried to leave. I think he needs me to stay."

"No, that's—that's fine," said Panda. "You haven't got to leave. I just . . . I was sort of hoping you could help with my diabetes math. I'm like, super high and I can't really . . . think properly, for like, dosing and stuff—"

Lalna nodded. When Panda didn't continue, they said, "Okay. I can help with that. What's your most recent blood glucose level?"

"Um, like . . . four-sixty-something?" he said. He rubbed his eye, because his vision was starting to blur. A little shock of panic shot through him, compounding the fear that was already there. He only had one eye left, he couldn't lose it, he _couldn't_ lose it, couldn't be left all alone in the dark, blind and terrified and useless—

"Okay," Lalna said. "Considering your correction factor, approximately nine units of insulin should be sufficient."

Panda raised his eyebrows. "That . . . seems like a bit much," he said.

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "The drop in blood glucose _is_ highly variable," Lalna said. "Many factors contribute to it, and I don't have complete data. I'm certain your judgement is trustworthy in this situation."

Panda shrugged. _"I'm_ not," he mumbled. His gaze caught on Nilesy's pillow, where there was a little splotch of blood from where the knife had sliced into his forehead as Panda had been bodily hurled across the room. He gulped and looked somewhere else.

"Why not?" Lalna asked, sounding genuinely curious. Panda shrank farther into himself, his thoughts in tumult.

"I . . . I _did_ this to him, Lal," he croaked, tears gathering in his eyes. "I _fucked_ this up so bad, I—I fucked _him_ up so, so bad, I didn't even think about—about what might. . . ."

"I don't understand," Lalna said. "That doesn't seem related to your diabetes."

Panda shook his head. A tear slipped out of his eye and scooted down his cheek, prickling in the dry air.

"Forget it," he said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Are you concerned that your logic matrix is flawed?" Lalna asked. "I know you don't technically have a logic matrix, but I believe the same principles apply."

Panda was about to reply, but Nilesy stirred, shifting ever so slightly, and in a panic Panda fled from the room before he could wake. It was only when he was standing in the kitchen with his heart pounding in his ears that it occurred to him to wonder what he was so afraid of. Nilesy had had episodes like this before—perhaps not as severe, but similar—and he was always forgiving, even apologetic, afterwards. Then again, Panda had never directly _caused_ one of those episodes, so there was no telling what his demeanor would be like.

While his thoughts chased each other around and his hands shook and his vision blurred, he forced himself to get everything together for an insulin shot. He retrieved a syringe and the alcohol wipes from his room, the insulin bottle from the fridge. He washed his hands and held the hem of his shirt in his teeth while he sterilized the lower left side of his abdomen. The alcohol wipe came back spotted with blood from the last injection, so he folded it over to wipe off the top of the bottle. He stuck the needle in and turned the bottle upside down, started to draw the clear liquid out.

His shaking hands faltered, and the bottle slipped through his fingers. With a delicate _tissh,_ it shattered into a dozen pieces on the floor. The hospital stench of insulin bloomed up in a mushroom cloud around him. He stood for a moment, looking at the broken glass littered around his bare feet, a slow-acting minefield that could cost him everything below the knees if he took so much as a single wrong step. There wasn't much point in going anywhere, anyway—the bottle had been nearly full, and there wasn't a replacement for it in the house. He'd _known_ he was almost out, but he hadn't bothered anybody to go with him to pick up more, because of _course_ it would be fine, the bottle was nearly full and his judgement was certainly _trustworthy._ He'd only been living like this for seven years, he should know. He'd only be living like this until it killed him.

Silently, Panda sank to the floor and cried.

* * *

 

Some time later, he managed to gather himself enough to clean up the mess he'd made, although it was a nerve-wracking experience. The very first thing he did was put on shoes, but even so, handling broken glass was like flirting with a buzz-saw. He managed not to cut himself, and he wiped up the spilled insulin with a paper towel, although the kitchen still reeked of it. He chugged another glass of water and went to check his ketones, crossing his fingers that nothing would come up so he could go run himself into the ground without turning his blood as acidic as Nano's.

He came up at a point-six, right on the upper edge of 'normal,' and decided, _fuck it._

Panda filled up two water bottles, still crying quietly, sneaking about like a thief as he tried not to wake Nano. He put his keys in his pocket, grabbed the swimmer's goggles from his room, and slipped out, locking the door behind him. He glanced up and down the street, watching for lights in windows or midnight pedestrians. He saw none, but decided that he'd made enough stupid mistakes today and it wasn't worth risking being outed to the entire neighborhood. He forced himself to walk out of the complex, along the suburban roads until the city slid away behind him and the soft darkness of the desert opened up wide in front, the stars glittering oceanic above his head and only miles and miles of open road before him.

Panda put on his goggles and _ran._

Hot wind whipped at his face, dusty and dry. His feet pounded on the asphalt, dark shapes rushed by on either side as he sped down the old highway, cacti and stunted shrubs and once a startled burro. Insects chattered and buzzed like power tools, the sharp scent of baked earth flooded his lungs. He tasted blood in the back of his throat, though his tongue was dry as sandpaper. His vision was blurring and his heart was pounding and he ran and ran until the land began to slope up into the near mountains, until shrubs gave way to Jacob trees and his legs burned and his head spun.

Panda slowed like a car running out of gas, throttling down until he was running at normal human speeds, and then jogging, and then walking. Gasping huge breaths deep into his lungs, he found a large rock and sat down on it, pulling the goggles up onto his forehead. His legs shook and his head spun, and he rested his elbows on his knees.

Below him, the city was spread out like a puddle of light spilled on a black marble floor. Haze clouded the air above it, and the tall buildings of the Strip stood up like an ant's metropolis. The shaft of bright white light from the Luxor pyramid caught itself in the haze and then vanished as it ascended, swallowed up by the darkness before it could reach more than a few hundred feet.

 _"Light breaks where no sun shines,"_ Panda murmured to himself, _"where no sea runs, the waters of the heart push in their tides."_

Somewhere nearby, a cricket took up its sawtoothed chirping, holding up the heavy desert silence like a slim pole beneath a thick quilt.

 _"And, broken ghosts with glowworms in their heads,"_ Panda said, brushing the underside of the silence with the back of his hand, _"the things of light file through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones."_

A tear slid down his cheek, and he left off speaking. Another cricket joined the first, propping up the silence and leaving something vacant underneath—not silence, not noise, but something in between.

"Fucking hell," he whispered, and pressed his forehead to his knees.

* * *

 

By the time Panda made it home, he was exhausted. His skin was throbbing, the bruises on his back swollen and tight. Hadaly told him all the running had dropped his blood sugar down to a more reasonable 220, which small triumph came with the caveat that his ketones were now through the roof, despite the two bottles of water he'd drunk while he was sitting out on the rock. He drank another two glasses of water and took Hadaly to his room, where he sat casting longing looks at his bed. He stayed up for another hour, faffing about on the internet, ducking into the bathroom every five minutes (or so it seemed), until the inevitable crash of his blood sugar came—a shaking, sweating, breathless 50. He ate some of the chewy candies he kept under his desk and cast a few more longing glances at his bed. After another hour, he checked in again with Hadaly—he was up to 100, too perfect to last, but he took the victory where he found it. By that point it was five a.m., and he'd be lucky to get even three hours of sleep. He made the attempt, hoping he didn't spike massively before his alarm went off.

Knowing the kind of night he'd had, it was a faint hope.

Panda threw himself on the bed, and no sooner had his head hit the pillow than his alarm was screeching in his ear. He slapped his phone open-handed and somehow managed to shut it off, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. He dragged himself out of bed and checked his blood sugar instead. Fortunately, it had only gone up to somewhere around 200, so there was no need for real urgency. He ducked into the bathroom and checked his ketones, which were rather more dire, having continued to rise since last night. He drank a couple glasses of water and put his shoes back on, then shuffled down the corridor and banged on Zylus's door.

"Zy," he called, his voice hoarse from all the dry air he'd panted last night. "I need you to drive me to the pharmacy. I broke another fucking insulin bottle last night and we haven't got a spare."

There was no response. Panda frowned and banged on the door again, harder.

 _"Zy!_ C'mon, I can't eat anything until we've gone, and I'm fucking starved."

Still, no answer came. Scowling, Panda opened Zylus's door and poked his head in.

"Zy?" he said.

Zylus was lying curled up on the floor, his head pillowed on his own arm. He was drooling, and a nearly-empty bottle stood open on his desk. Panda slipped in and shut the door behind him, then crept over and nudged Zylus with his foot.

"Zy," he said. "Oy, wake up."

A flicker of a frown crossed Zylus's face, but he didn't otherwise stir. Panda shook him gently, still using his foot.

"C'mon, wake up, you fucking drunk. We haven't got time for this."

Zylus made a begrudging sort of noise and swatted clumsily at Panda's foot. Panda knelt down and hoisted him upright. Zylus still didn't open his eyes, but he sniffled and winced and shook his head.

"Fuck," he mumbled, his voice a bare croak. His breath was sour with the smell of alcohol and peaches.

Panda slapped his cheek a couple of times. "You still drunk? Fucking hell, it's morning already!"

"Shorry," he said, slurring the word and still not opening his eyes.

Panda sighed. "Look, I'm going to get you a glass of water and then I guess I'll get Nano or somebody to take me to the pharmacy."

"'m shorry," Zylus said again. He hiccuped.

"Good," said Panda. He propped Zylus up against the bed and got him a glass of water. It took Zylus a couple of tries to really grab onto it, but once he had, Panda left him there with a kiss on the forehead and a little slap on the cheek. He went to find Nano, hands in his pockets and gaze lowered.

He tried, really _tried_ not to hold it against Zylus, but it was hard. Even though he couldn't imagine what he'd been through the night before, what kind of nightmarish things had spilled out of Nilesy's head, he couldn't help but feel that Zylus was abusing his privileges. Panda would have _loved_ to get too drunk to sit up, but it inevitably would've killed him. He had, he thought, more right than Zylus to want to drown his thoughts, and the fact that he _couldn't_ do it and Zylus _had_ was simply unfair.

Panda had still been pinned to the wall when Zylus had come in, white-faced and wild-eyed with a hand clutching his head like his skull had cracked, watched the invisible hand of force pick him up and hurl him back into the corridor like a doll. About then his vision had started to go, because not enough oxygen was reaching his brain because Nilesy was pushing him into the wall with his own blood, slowly crushing his organs like the vast and inescapable pressure of a sea fathoms deep. . . .

With a shiver and a shake of his head, Panda put the thoughts from his mind, as much as he could. Doing his best to stay calm and breathe deeply, he went to get Nano, who was no longer asleep on the couch and therefore presumably in her own room. He managed not to run into Rythian on the other side of the duplex, and kept his footsteps quiet to avoid attracting attention. He rapped on Nano's door, hoping that the way his hand shook was a product of sleep deprivation and not something like ketoacidosis. After a moment, Nano opened the door.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face blotchy. "Hi. What's up?"

"Are you okay?" Panda asked, before he could stop himself.

Nano looked at him for a moment, her lips between her teeth. She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

"I um," she said, "I don't really want to talk about it just now, if that's all right."

"Yeah, that's fine," said Panda. He marshaled himself and went on. "Look, Zy's passed out drunk and I . . . sort of broke my last bottle of insulin last night, so . . . d'you think you could drive me to the pharmacy to pick up a new batch so I don't fucking die?"

"Oh, God," Nano sighed, rubbing her face. "Yeah, I can do that. Give me just a sec to get dressed, okay?"

"All right," said Panda. She shut the door and he leaned up against the wall, trying not to be impatient. He was starving, but he could also feel his blood sugar spiking, God only knew why. It was in the pressure behind his face and the way his knees were getting watery. An interminable five minutes later, Nano came back out of her room, fully dressed and significantly more composed.

"Right, let's go," she said, heading for the front door. "Is this a dead-in-an-hour sort of insulin pickup, or just routine? Sorry, should've asked that sooner. It's . . . been a morning."

"Just . . . routine, I s'pose," said Panda, not mentioning that even the routine sort of insulin pickup was still a _dead-in-two-days_ one.

"Good," said Nano. They went out to the car and started off for the pharmacy. "You said Zylus was passed out drunk?"

"Apparently," said Panda, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Here he was flirting with death and she was more worried about stupid fucking Zylus.

Nano sighed. "Well, I s'pose I can't blame him, after last night."

"I can," Panda muttered, glaring out the window. "He wasn't even _there."_

She paused, then asked, "What . . . _did_ happen? If you don't mind my asking."

"I _do_ mind," he snapped.

"All right, no need to bite my fucking head off, I was only asking."

"Yeah, well _only ask_ someone else. Maybe Zylus, if he fucking remembers any of it."

Again, she didn't respond for a time. They were just pulling into the pharmacy parking lot when she said, "Are you all right?"

"Just fucking high as shit, what else is fucking new," Panda said. The moment she stopped the car, he threw his door open and walked off, heading for the pharmacy. The sun beat down, blazing already even at eight-thirty in the morning, and its brightness sent needles of pain through his eye. He hurried indoors, his jaw clenched and his fists balled.

He almost _wished_ someone would make his life difficult, just so he'd have an excuse to murder them.

Nano caught up with him while he waited in line for the pharmacy counter. Fortunately, she didn't try to make conversation, just stood quietly with him, seemingly absorbed in her phone. Panda followed suit, at first, trying to distract himself with some sort of game, but he was too unfocused, too angry to get anywhere with it. In the end it only made him more frustrated, so he put it away again.

The pharmacist was bland and pleasant and did not comment at all on the purchase; nor did Nano, even though the price was exorbitant despite Panda's scant health insurance from the university library job. She drove him back home again and even went so far as to help him with the injection when he asked, because his hands were shaking like mad and he couldn't focus his eye and he wasn't sure he could take breaking another bottle. He, too, might shatter on the floor, irreparable and wasted.

Half an hour later, he went ahead and had breakfast, not even bothering to check his blood sugar before he did. His fingers were pricked up all to hell and he simply couldn't take Hadaly judging him one more time for his blood sugar's antics. It wasn't _his_ fault he was all over the place. He wasn't born to be a pancreas, and it wasn't a job he liked or wanted. It was practically a miracle he did it at all.

Afterwards, he sat at the kitchen table, cradling a warm cup of tea while his thoughts settled like silt on a riverbottom. He still wasn't thinking particularly clearly, although that was probably due to the three hours of sleep more than anything. Eventually, though, he came to the conclusion that he owed Nano an apology.

He found her in the lefthand living room, on her laptop as usual, one earbud in. She was scowling, her jaw tight and her eyes hard. Panda cleared his throat. She looked up.

"Um," he said. "I'm sorry for being horrible to you earlier. I was high as fuck and . . . yeah."

"Thank you," said Nano. "I appreciate it."

He fidgeted, then said, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"With what?" she asked, frowning.

"Well—I dunno," he said. "Whatever's wrong. I know you don't want to talk about it, but . . . if I can help, I will."

Nano took a deep breath and sighed it out again. She took her earbud out and folded her arms, looking at the arm of the sofa.

"It's . . . happened again," she said. "The . . . blood thing. It's happened again and I . . . don't really know what to do."

"Oh, _shit,"_ said Panda. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not, because I'm throwing up fucking blood," Nano snapped. She winced, biting her lip. "Sorry. I didn't—sorry."

"It's fine," said Panda. "I totally understand. But—God, okay, so what do we do?"

She shrugged. "I guess we find a new doctor, or something. I _was_ . . . I _was_ going to talk to Zylus about it, but I guess he's sort of . . . unavailable, at the moment." She met his eye, something of pleading in her expression. "Please don't tell anybody. They'll only worry, and I really, _really_ don't want people worrying over me."

"Well—I dunno about that," said Panda. "I think they deserve to know. And there's no way you'll be able to keep Zy out of it, once he's sober, although odds-on he won't talk to you about it if you don't want him to. But, I mean, I know _I_ wouldn't want to be kept in the dark about something like this."

"It's _my_ body, Panda," she said. "I think I've got every right to keep all this shit secret if I feel like it."

"I . . . guess," he said, fidgeting. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Okay, so—what can I do? Anything?"

She sighed again. "I . . . could use a medibuddy, if you're up for it."

"Sure," said Panda. "And if they blow you off, I'll stab them in the fucking throat."

She cracked a smile. "Thanks, Panda."

"Anytime," he said.


	12. Chapter 11

Lomadia stood in her room, shaking with rage. Her fists were clenched, her claws scoring the floor, and she was hot all over. There was a swelling pain in her sinuses and her nose was starting to run. Nano's words were ringing in her ears, too loud, too cruel. She wanted to rip something up, splatter blood everywhere and feel the sticky heat of it on her claws, shout and scream and yell and take Nano by the shoulders and shake her and make her _understand._

It was _Nilesy,_ and Nilesy would never hurt her. How anyone could think otherwise was utterly beyond her. How Nano could be so stubborn and mean and _stupid_ was beyond her. How Lomadia herself could possibly explain it was also, unfortunately, beyond her.

What made it worse was that she'd thought, naively, that the two of them had been getting on better lately. Nano hadn't been as mean and Nilesy hadn't been as annoying and they'd even occasionally been _nice_ to each other, especially after Nano got ill. This sort of backsliding on Nano's part was not only infuriating, it was nerve-wracking. What if Nilesy decided to respond in kind? What if things got worse from there? What if, worst of all, Lomadia was forced to take a _side?_

She shook her head, scrunching her face up and huffing out a snotty breath through her nose. That hadn't happened, and she'd make sure it didn't. There wasn't much she could do, but if she needed help she could probably get Zylus to fix it. Zylus could fix most things, especially if it was just people being stupid.

Lomadia stood for a time, calming down. She heard the door open and close and guessed that Nano had gone away. She could hear a quiet hum from Nilesy's room that was probably Lalna. When she'd gotten herself back to normal, she decided she should probably go see Nilesy and make sure he was okay. She slipped into the shared bathroom, tapped the door with two knuckles, and then poked her head into Nilesy's room.

Lalna was sitting on the bed, their back against the wall. Nilesy was curled up next to them with his head on their thigh and the mask on his face. His hair was mussed, his lips parted. Lalna had a hand on his shoulder and was rubbing his arm with their thumb. They looked up when Lomadia opened the door, their eyes a dark purple.

"Hi," they said. Their voice was quiet, quieter than anybody else could ever speak. It was quiet even to Lomadia's sensitive ears. She liked it when they talked like that, so that no one but her could hear them.

"Hi," said Lomadia. She slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. "Is he okay?"

Lalna looked down at Nilesy, who had not stirred. His breathing was slow and regular, his hands folded at his chest, his knees tucked up to his stomach.

"There's one minor laceration on his face, and he has multiple bruises," they said. "He also drowned last night. He was conscious but unresponsive for several hours afterwards. He's been asleep for four hours, which I believe is a good sign."

Lomadia nodded. "I can take care of him now, if you want."

Lalna did not answer for a moment, and their face pulled into a deep frown.

"He was very frightened," they said. "I still don't understand why. I'm concerned it may happen again. He tried to hurt me. I don't think he understood what he was doing. I don't think he recognized me."

"That happens sometimes," said Lomadia. "When he gets really _really_ upset. He goes somewhere else in his head."

"Zylus said it is post-traumatic stress disorder," Lalna said. "I researched the condition extensively and I agree with his diagnosis. I don't know what to do, though. Professional help should be sought, but I'm not certain I should say so."

"You probably shouldn't," Lomadia confirmed. "Nilesy doesn't like doctors. Especially brain-doctors. He'll get all upset."

They nodded. "That was my assumption."

Lomadia paused for a moment, then came over and stood next to the bed. She looked down at Nilesy, wanting to touch him but not wanting to risk waking him, either. She turned her gaze to Lalna, who was also looking at Nilesy.

"He didn't _actually_ hurt you, did he?" she asked, a little fish of doubt in her stomach.

"I'm undamaged," Lalna said. "There was initially a fair amount of pain, but I turned down my sensitivity in order to be more helpful. He caused much more damage to himself than he did to me."

"But he didn't hurt you?" she pressed, lost in the fog of Lalna's words.

"No," Lalna said, "he did not hurt me."

"Okay, good," said Lomadia. "I can stay with him now, if you want to go."

"I don't want to go," said Lalna.

Lomadia frowned. "Well, I'd like you to go," she said. "I was being polite."

"I see," said Lalna. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand."

"It's okay," said Lomadia. "I forget I'm not supposed to be polite with you. Can I have him now?"

"Yes," said Lalna. They patted Nilesy's shoulder, and he stirred. Lalna patted him again, and his eyes blinked open.

"Mmr?" he said, just a little trill of sound. He started to sit up. Lalna helped him.

"Lomadia is here," they said, raising their voice a little so he could hear them properly. "I'm going away now, but she's going to stay with you."

"'Kay," Nilesy mumbled. He reached up to rub his eye and jerked his hand back when he touched the mask, as though it was burning hot.

Lalna scooted off the bed, which creaked with their weight. Lomadia took their place, and Nilesy promptly climbed into her lap, pillowing his head on her chest. She wrapped her arms around him and folded her wings in close.

"Thank you for helping him," she said to Lalna.

"You're welcome," said Lalna. "I'm going to check on Rythian. He wasn't directly involved, but I'm concerned about him."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Bye."

"Goodbye," said Lalna. They left the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

A long time passed, she wasn't sure how much. The room brightened with the advancing dawn, and she stroked Nilesy's hair while he dozed in her lap. After a while, he stirred, blearily crawled out of her lap and lay down with his head on the pillow instead. She lay down with him, draping her wing across the bed to shelter them both, and took his hands in hers. Having nothing else to do, she watched him while he slept—the little movements of his eyes behind their lids, the slow swell of his breath. She noticed when he started dreaming, the involuntary twitches of his fingers and feet, the shortening of his breath and the expressions chasing each other under the mask. She kissed him, softly, just enough to wake him.

She had a feeling that his dreams were not sweet ones.

He went stiff and his eyes snapped open, and he jerked away from her. She let him go, just watching. After a moment, the rabbity fear on his face softened to recognition, and he took her hands, cuddling up next to her again.

"Hi," she said.

Nilesy said nothing, just pressed his forehead to her chest, briefly recoiling when the mask touched her as though, again, he'd forgotten it was there. She put an arm around him and held him close.

"I heard what happened," Lomadia said. Something in her was gunked up, and she couldn't make herself mention Nano. "I'm glad you're okay."

Nilesy scoffed, tense to the point of shivering. She kissed the top of his head, but it didn't seem to wind him down at all. She played with the hair at the back of his neck, not sure what else she could say or do. He lay there shivering in her arms for minutes on end, not speaking, not moving.

_"Are_ you okay?" Lomadia asked at last, frowning.

Nilesy shook his head, the movement sharp and jerky. Lomadia squeezed him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Can I help?"

Again, he shook his head.

"Okay," she said. "I'm sorry."

Another few minutes passed. Nilesy was clearly trying to take deep breaths, although he wasn't doing it very well. His fingernails were digging into the back of Lomadia's hand.

"I . . . hurt them," he said eventually, his voice small and broken.

"Who?" said Lomadia.

"Panda. Zylus."

"Oh. Like, bad?"

He shrugged, and a helpless giggle slid through his lips.

"It probably wasn't that bad. Nano said everyone was okay." Lomadia stopped, the gunk in her stomach spreading out through her insides. She clenched her teeth and shook her wings. It wasn't time to be thinking about Nano.

"I _hurt_ them," Nilesy repeated.

"Did you mean to?" said Lomadia.

"I—no, of course not, but—but I _hurt_ them, Lom!"

"Okay, so?"

He pulled away from her, his eyes red and his face blotchy behind the mask.

_"So?"_ he said. "How—how am I ever going to _face_ them again? What can I even say to—to. . . ."

"Just say you're sorry," Lomadia said. "You've got to say you're sorry, because you hurt them, but you didn't mean it so it's okay. You didn't do anything bad, you haven't got to be all upset."

"But—Lom, I—" He broke off, shaking his head, his face scrunched up with pain.

"It'll be okay," Lomadia told him, stroking his hair. "It's not anybody's fault, it just _happened,_ and now we've got to deal with it. So say you're sorry and then it'll all be okay."

He pressed his forehead back to her chest, shivering. "Why do any of you stay with me?" he asked, his voice creaking like a rusty hinge.

"I dunno," Lomadia said. "Because we love you, probably. I know _I_ love you."

_"Why?"_

She frowned. "That's a sort of a silly question, isn't it?"

"How can it be _worth_ it?" Nilesy asked. "How can it possibly be _worth_ . . . all of this— _this!_ My brain's so fucked up, _I'm_ so fucked up, how can you fucking _stand_ to—"

"You're not your brain, though," Lomadia said. Nilesy pulled up short. Slowly, he pulled back from her and met her eyes. He was crying behind the mask.

"What?" he said.

"You're not your brain," she repeated. "So your brain's all fucked up, and it does awful stuff, but it's doing awful stuff to all of us. You, too. You especially. And if I could shrink down really small I'd go in there and rip it to bits. But it's not _you._ It's not your fault."

Nilesy stared at her for a long moment, shivering.

"Jesus Christ, Lom," he said, all choked up. She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"But since I _can't_ go beat up your brain, I've got to stay out here and help," Lomadia said. "Which I want to. Because I love you. Because being with you feels like coming home."

Nilesy buried his face in her chest and dug his fingers into her shoulders, clinging to her like a toddler. She kissed the top of his head and petted his hair, being careful not to touch the elastic band of the mask. They stayed like that for close on half an hour, wordless, while Nilesy's sniffling tapered off and the sun started to pick out swirls of dust through the gap in the curtains. Eventually, Nilesy reached up a shaking hand and took off the mask. He rolled over and tossed it under the bed, then returned his head to the pillow, looking at Lomadia with a calm sort of adoration on his face.

"How was work?" he asked, brushing her hair off her forehead.

"It was pretty good," Lomadia said. She stretched out one wing until it touched the ceiling, working out the stiffness in the muscles. "I got to snatch somebody."

"You did?" Nilesy said, brightening. "Well, finally! That's wonderful, how'd it go?"

"It was fun," she admitted, smiling to herself. "He yelled a lot and I dropped him at the police station and they knelt on his head and put handcuffs on him. People clapped. He called me names and somebody threw food on him and a lady bought me really nice drink."

"Yeah?" said Nilesy, looking at her with sparkling eyes and a fledgeling smile. "Bet that was a real hoot."

Lomadia blinked at him, and his smile spread out to its full span.

"Eh?" he prompted, nudging her. _"Eh?"_

"Oh, _boo,"_ she said, unable to keep herself from smiling. Nilesy burst out laughing, the silver-bell sound of it sweet in her ears, and she mashed his face with her hands like she was trying to push a troublesome wad of bubble-wrap back into its box. He wriggled, still laughing, and she lay down full-length on top of him.

"I'm crushed, I'm crushed!" he cried, pushing at her ineffectually. "Oh, God, this is the end of the Nilesinator, squished beneath a giant bird!"

"I'm not that heavy," said Lomadia.

"It's no use," said Nilesy, going limp, his head lolling. "I'm far too weak, I'm trapped for good."

"Yes," said Lomadia. She nestled her face against the crook of his neck and felt the resultant thrill run through him. He rested his hands between her wings and pressed his fingers to the thick muscle, coaxing out the soreness. Lomadia sighed, contented.

"Have I mentioned lately that I love you?" Nilesy said softly.

"Yes," said Lomadia. "But you can say it again if you like."

Nilesy kissed her ear and moved on to massaging the base of her wings, his hands strong and sure and gentle.

"I love you very much," he said.

"I love you, too," Lomadia said. "I'm sorry your brain went all weird."

"Thank you, dear," he said. "Here's hoping it doesn't do it again."

* * *

 

A couple hours later, there was a clumsy knock on the door.

"Niles?" said Panda. "It's me. Can I—can I come in? I've brought food. And tea. Um. And I can't . . . actually open the door because my hands are full. Right now."

"I've got it," said Lomadia. She extracted herself from Nilesy's arms and opened the door. Panda blinked up at her, recoiling slightly. He was carrying a plate of toast and a cup of tea, and looked like he hadn't slept at all.

"Oh," he said. "Uh, hi. Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt anything—"

"It's okay," said Lomadia. "He should eat. _I_ should eat, too, really."

"You can have mine, dear," Nilesy said from the bed. Lomadia turned her head around to glare at him.

_"You_ can have yours. You never want to eat. You'll starve if you keep not eating."

"Um," said Panda, leaning to one side like he was trying to peer around Lomadia. _"Can_ I come in?"

"Nilesy?" said Lomadia, turning to look at him. Nilesy waved a hand and said nothing, still lying where she'd left him. She turned back to Panda. "I guess it's okay."

Lomadia stood aside, and Panda came in. He set the toast and tea on Nilesy's desk and then stood for a moment, wringing his hands and looking anywhere but at Nilesy.

Lyndon sauntered up to the door, took a look inside, then continued sauntering into the room. He sat down next to the bed, judged the distance for a moment, then leapt up and started licking Nilesy's ear.

"Oh, God, _not the ear!"_ Nilesy said, fending him off. Lyndon would not abandon his enterprise, though, and eventually Nilesy had to sit up to get the cat off of him. Lyndon, affronted, leapt down off the bed and wandered off, brushing against Lomadia's leg on his way out.

"Stupid fucking cat," Nilesy said, rubbing his face. Lomadia came back to the bed and sat down, putting an arm around Nilesy's shoulders before he could lie down again. He turned, swinging his feet out of the bed, and leaned against her, making no move to actually get up.

For a long moment, there was silence, while both Nilesy and Panda kept their eyes lowered and Lomadia looked back and forth between them.

"I'm sorry," the boys said simultaneously. They looked up at each other, startled. Nilesy laughed nervously and looked away, and Panda rubbed the back of his head, biting his lip.

"What've _you_ got to be sorry for?" Nilesy asked.

"I fucked your brain up," Panda said. "What've _you_ got to be sorry for?"

"I threw you across the fucking room, for starters," said Nilesy.

Panda made a face. "It's not like you _meant_ to. I'm all right."

"You're sure?" Nilesy pressed.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, there's a couple bruises, but it doesn't really matter."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, dear."

"Well, okay, I forgive you. Not because I think you've done anything wrong, mind, but so you'll stop apologizing."

Nilesy ducked his head. Lomadia patted his arm.

"See?" she said. He leaned into her. Panda came over and sat on Nilesy's other side, leaning on him. Lomadia folded a wing around the both of them.

"And _you're_ all right?" Panda asked, looking Nilesy over.

Nilesy sighed. He took Panda's hand, still not looking at him.

"Much as I can be," he said. He hesitated. "You're _sure_ you're not hurt?"

"I mean, my blood sugar was all fucked up, but that's not really anything special," Panda said, his nose wrinkling. "And definitely not your fault."

"Still horrendous," said Nilesy.

"You're telling me," Panda mumbled.

A few moments passed in silence. Lomadia yawned.

"I'm going to go eat something and go to sleep," she declared. "If anything awful happens, you can come get me, though."

Nilesy straightened up and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, dear," he said. "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," said Lomadia. She got up and stretched, her wings brushing the walls and ceiling.

"G'night, Lom," said Panda. "Thanks for . . . y'know, everything."

"You're welcome," said Lomadia. "Make sure he actually eats, okay?"

"Gotcha," said Panda.

"No fair, ganging up on me," Nilesy grumbled.

"Not sorry," said Lomadia. With another yawn, she headed for the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

* * *

 

Lomadia slept well, for the most part. She climbed into bed around noon, a full dinner of chicken and rice warming her belly. She shook out her wings, brushed them gently with her fingers to spread their natural oils through them, and tended to the few ratty or crooked feathers that she found. That done, she lay down on her stomach and fanned her wings out to keep them cool, and was out like a light in less than ten minutes, worn out from work.

However, she woke again a few hours before sunset and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. She kept glancing over at the door, waiting for someone to knock or come in or just walk by, but no one did. Although she didn't get out of bed, she also didn't manage to get back to sleep before it was time to get up and go to work. She dressed herself, fumbling with the buttons on the back of her vest for longer than usual because her fingers didn't want to work. She brushed her hair quickly, deciding she wouldn't bother grabbing breakfast. If she got hungry, she could always take a quick fly out to the desert and grab a coyote. It had been too long since she'd crunched anything's bones, anyway, and sometimes she did miss the taste of raw meat.

She came out into the main part of the house, intending to head straight out the door, but Nano was sitting on the couch, and leapt up when she came in the room. Lomadia hesitated, not sure whether to ignore her and keep walking or to try and make some kind of conversation or what.

"Um," said Nano. She was blushing already, fidgeting on her feet. "H-hi. Um."

"Hi," said Lomadia. She waited a second, then turned again to leave, the gunk in her stomach gumming up her insides, leaving her feeling tarry and strange.

"There's something I've been meaning to say," Nano blurted, taking a half step towards her. Lomadia waited, watching Nano closely.

"Look, I—I know you're in a bit of a rush, but. . . ." Nano took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I yelled at you, and I didn't listen to you, and I—I said mean and . . . and hurtful things, and I'm sorry. I should have listened to what you were saying, instead of just . . . thinking I knew what was best for you. I'll try not to do it again, and . . . if there's something I can do to make up for it, I will."

Lomadia looked at her for a long moment, taking in the words. Nano kept her gaze lowered, her eyes wet and her lip quivering.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "I forgive you."

Nano looked up, surprised. "Wait, really?" she said.

Shrugging, Lomadia said, "Sure. You said you're sorry, and I think you meant it, so I forgive you."

"Oh," said Nano. "Well. Um. Okay! Thank—thank you. I guess I'll . . . let you go on to work, then."

"Okay," said Lomadia. She was almost out the door when a thought occurred to her. She paused, then turned back and went to Nano, who looked up at her with something between hope and concern.

"Um," Nano squeaked.

Lomadia took her face in her hands and kissed her. Nano drew a slow, deep breath, touched the backs of Lomadia's hands with her fingertips. She was soft, smooth, her skin cool and her lips sweet. Reluctantly, Lomadia pulled away. Reluctantly, Nano let her.

"I love you," Lomadia said. "And I'm sorry I said I maybe shouldn't. I don't think that's true at all and I'm sorry I said it."

"I—forgive you," said Nano, her voice all small and breathless. Lomadia pecked her on the lips again and let go of her face.

"Okay. I've got to go now," she said, taking a step back.

"Good hunting, sweetheart," Nano said.

Lomadia smiled. "Good night," she said.

That night, the sky beneath her wings was as sweet as it had ever been before.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I forgot to thank @irlknife for letting me use their Teep design! Thank you so much!!

As June slid into its third week, the heat worsened. Rythian hadn't known it was _possible_ for anything outside an actual oven to hit forty-five degrees, but Vegas seemed determined to cook its inhabitants alive, offering them up roasted and broiled to be devoured by the hungry sun. Even nightfall brought scarcely any relief, the heat still oppressive even in the earliest hours of the morning.

He never did get a proper explanation for the episode of violent screaming, although that was mostly his own fault. Lalna had attempted to explain the morning after it happened, but the moment the word _Nilesy_ came out of their mouth Rythian had cut them off in annoyance. As the days had progressed, Rythian had become both more curious and more determined that too much time had passed and he could no longer ask. Nilesy had been subdued and jumpy, but that was not unusual following his episodes, and Rythian was _certainly_ not concerned for his wellbeing. If he tended to hang around the left side of the duplex more and respond less to Nilesy's half-hearted goading, it was only because he was bored and sick of being alone, unwilling to risk exile.

Unfortunately, he didn't have many options for company. Lomadia slept from noon until dusk, Panda and Nano worked all day, and Zylus tended to keep to himself until it was time for him to leave for work in the late afternoon. Rythian's choices, therefore, were limited most of the time to Nilesy, Lalna, or Lyndon, and two out of three of those didn't like him. He even found it difficult to be around Lalna for any extended period of time, always afraid he'd end up snapping at them over nothing and hurting their feelings.

He decided that the heat was preferable, and spent most of his time wandering from bus stop to bus stop, gently accosting friendly-looking pedestrians for change to buy a bottle of water.

Old habits, evidently, died very hard.

By Wednesday, he was feeling so useless and keyed-up that he decided he might as well go ahead and get his rent money together. He snuck out early in the morning, while Lalna was still in their sleep cycle and Nano had already gone to work, beggared the bus fare off a dark-skinned woman with purple hair, and steeled himself for the coming torment.

* * *

 

The trader never spoke, and this more than anything made Rythian dislike them.

It wasn't that they were rude, or cruel, or even entirely unresponsive. They generally answered _yes_ or _no_ questions with nods of their head, shrugged when they didn't know or when Rythian phrased things poorly, and managed to express their moods somewhat efficiently with the use of body language. They had no expressions to speak of, and their mottled brown-and-white skin always seemed to be peeling from sunburn. Both their arms were foreshortened and deformed, three-fingered, clumsy. They blinked _maybe_ once every three minutes.

None of this, however, sourced Rythian's dislike. Really, if he'd known them in any other context, he probably would have found them perfectly pleasant. But there was something about being shuttled around by an unspeaking professional, siphoned and paid off and sent away, that made him feel like _livestock,_ and he hated it.

As he sat in the trader's wooden chair, waiting for them to hook him up to their electricity-stealing machine, he found himself rather foolishly missing Tom.

"Hey, Tee," he began, while the trader moved around behind him. He had no idea if this was their actual name—there was just a large letter _T_ nailed to their front door, and no one had ever given him any other name, so it was the best he had.

Tee did not respond, just went on working. Rythian fidgeted.

"Um," he said, continuing on regardless. "Just—uh, if you want to try for an hour this time, that's . . . I think I can handle it."

Still, Tee didn't react. There were clicks and whirrs behind Rythian, the occasional beep.

"Right," Rythian muttered to himself. "Great. Just—keep doing your thing."

The chair in which he sat was equipped with two built-in copper rods that protruded from the armrests and hooked up directly to the machine, but he was not to touch them until everything was set up. Tee had seemed very adamant about this, going so far as to slap Rythian on the wrist with a rubber glove hard enough to leave a welt. Rythian didn't know what happened if he touched them anyway, but he wasn't eager to find out.

"So, Tee," he began again. "Has . . . business been good?"

Tee came around in front of him and pointed to the copper rods. Their face was still blank as a slate.

"Oh, right, yes," said Rythian. He took a breath to brace himself and wrapped his hands around the rods. The sudden jerk at his voltage was like having the breath knocked out of him, and his head started spinning almost immediately. He sat back in the chair, trying to breathe while his abdomen twitched and spasmed.

It hadn't gotten much easier, over the past eleven months. He could still smell the copper and blood and pus, the disinfectant, the rubber gloves. The scars on his stomach had healed ugly, thick and ragged from Lomadia's unprofessional stitching. The first time he'd come here, just a week after the crew's arrival in America, he'd had a full-blown panic attack and had to text Zylus to come get him. Tee had stood to one side, watching him, making no move to help.

On the other hand, when he'd come back a week later, they hadn't commented, hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow. They'd hooked him up unconcernedly and, when he'd had a second panic attack, shut off the machine and stayed with him until Zylus arrived and had even gotten him a glass of water.

Rythian had at least managed to stop having panic attacks, although it was by a narrow margin. Tee stayed in the room with him every time, paid him (almost) fairly, and sent him on his way. They usually just sat in a corner and played on their phone. Rythian wished they were better conversation, at least for the purposes of distracting himself.

Now, as the machine siphoned off Rythian's voltage, they stood looking down at him, unreadable. Rythian was having a difficult time focusing his eyes, and breathing was laborious.

After a moment, Tee went over to their chair in the corner and sat down. They wriggled around a little to get their phone out of their pocket, and started playing whatever game they had on there, apparently finished with him. Rythian shut his eyes and tried to focus on the here and now, reminding himself that he was safe, that he could make it stop at any time, that he was doing this because he wanted to and for no other reason.

They'd shuttled him around silently at YogLabs, too. Their faces had all blurred together, their gloved hands all identically cold and impersonal. There had been needles and swabs and that horrible white tube, full of ear-splitting percussion and cold hospital air, that tangled up his insides and battered them with heavy fists—

Someone touched his face, and Rythian's eyes snapped open. Tee jerked their hands back, recoiling from him. Rythian watched them, his vision swimming, his breath coming in short and uneven gasps.

Holding firm eye-contact, Tee took a slow, deliberate breath through their nose and blew it out through their mouth. Rythian blinked, shaking his head, fighting to stay present. Tee gestured at him and repeated the breath, a thin line appearing between their eyebrows.

On the third repetition, it finally clicked what Tee was trying to get across, and Rythian did his best to breathe with them, though his diaphragm was twitching and his hands were clenched so tightly on the copper rods that his arms were shaking. Tee nodded, led him through another breath, and another. Slowly, the tension started to bleed out of Rythian, although he could not stop shivering.

"Thank—thank you," he said, between deep breaths.

Tee nodded. They tapped their wrist twice, held up a gnarled finger, and raised their eyebrows.

"Uh?" said Rythian. "I don't—I don't understand."

Rolling their eyes, Tee let out a long-suffering sigh. Rythian's diaphragm spasmed and he exhaled slowly, trying to keep himself together. Tee walked away, and Rythian nearly came up out of the chair after them. Instead, he leaned back and shut his eyes, focusing on breathing. He was still shaking like mad, nauseous and muzzy.

The touch on his face came again, and again Rythian nearly jumped clean out of his skin. Tee jerked their hands back, then held up their phone for him to see. There was an open text message, unsent, pulled up on the screen.

_1 HOUR OK? HOW LONG?_

"I—I think it's . . . fine," said Rythian, thrown. In all the eleven months he'd been coming here, Tee had never once actually communicated with him, in writing or otherwise.

Tee nodded, then went back to their chair, settling in and going right back to playing on their phone. Rythian kept his eyes open this time, not wanting to be startled again. It made his head swim and ache, but it was at least a little easier to keep out of his memories.

He swore he could smell antiseptic somewhere.

Slowly, inexorably, the hour passed. Tee got up and shut off the machine, and Rythian folded in on himself, curling his arms around his abdomen and waiting for his muscles to stop twitching. He rested his forehead on his knees and took deep, shivering breaths. He was weak, tender, like his bones were pasta that had been boiled.

Tee helped him out of the chair and into the grungy little foyer, settled him down and got him a glass of water. Rythian sipped it, too ill to manage much else. After a few minutes, he slipped his gloves on, fumbled out his phone, and called Zylus, putting him on speaker and leaving the phone on the table.

 _"Hello?"_ Zylus said. He sounded groggy.

"It's me," said Rythian. His voice was shaking and thin. "Um . . . can you—can you come pick me up? Um. . . ."

Zylus sighed. There was a shuffling, a muffled yawn. _"I can. Should be about . . . half an hour? Dependsh on traffic. I'll get there ash shoon ash I can. Need me to shtay on the phone?"_

"N-no, that's fine," said Rythian. "I should be—it's just that . . . I don't think I can make it home. On—on my own. Today."

_"Right, okay, that'sh fine. I jusht have to get a couple thingsh together, then I'll head shtraight out."_

"No rush," said Rythian.

_"Okay, good. It should be about half an hour. Maybe lessh, but . . . plan for half an hour."_

"Thank you."

_"Of courshe. Uh . . . right, okay, well. Bye."_

"Bye," said Rythian. There was a click as Zylus hung up. Rythian put his phone to sleep and stuffed it back in his pocket, then went back to sipping his water.

Tee was hovering in the doorway, watching, expressionless. Rythian attempted a smile and failed. He wished he'd brought his mask with him, just for the comfort of having something to hide behind. On the other hand, Tee ignored him completely whenever he wore the mask, so it was really a mixed bag.

"I'm . . . getting a ride home," he said. "In like—thirty minutes? Or so? Is—is it okay if I just . . . wait in here?"

Tee considered for a moment, then nodded. They turned and went back into the room with the chair, leaving Rythian alone. He sat staring at nothing, slowly working his way through his water and trying to breathe normally. His head was filled with grimy memories of YogLabs, squirming thoughts blurred since their creation. He still wasn't sure what all had happened to him, what they had done to him, what secret damages they had inflicted. Sometimes his insides still throbbed, like there were bruises there that had never faded.

The ringing of the doorbell roused him from his dismal musings. A red light flashed above the door, and soon after, Tee came out of the other room and opened the door. Zylus stepped in, waving awkwardly to Tee.

"Hi," he said. "Jusht here for Joakim." He leaned over to one side, peering around Tee, and waved to Rythian. "Hi."

Rythian got to his feet, unsteady and weak. He drained the last of his water and made his way over to Zylus and Tee, moving like an old man. Tee handed him a wad of cash, which Rythian's fingers were almost too clumsy to hang on to. He stuffed the bills in his pocket, averting his eyes.

"Thanks," he said. "See you in two weeks."

Tee nodded, then turned and left. Zylus held the door open for Rythian, and the two of them went out into the blistering afternoon. Zylus held open the car door for him, too. The car was still cool from having the air conditioner turned on.

Zylus got in and started the car with only a brief glance at Rythian.

"Everything go okay?" he asked, navigating the small, crowded car park outside the house where Tee ran their little business.

Rythian shrugged. "I guess," he said.

"For uh . . . for referenshe," Zylus said, clearly uncomfortable, "nexsht time you _can_ jusht . . . texsht me. Inshtead of calling. Jusht . . . ash a reminder."

"Sure," said Rythian, not really paying attention.

A few minutes passed in silence while Zylus got on the interstate and headed back towards the center of Summerlin, their little suburb to the northwest of Vegas proper. Rythian wrapped his arms around his abdomen and tried to control his shaking, tried to keep his thoughts inside his own head. His insides were squirming again, echoes of that hammer-blow clicking sharp in his ears. The car was too close around him, there wasn't enough air inside, the air conditioner blowing hospital-cold across his bare arms and knees. He stared unseeing out the window and clenched his jaw, swallowing down nausea.

"It wash an MRI," Zylus said suddenly. Rythian tore his attention away from the window, frowning.

"What?" he said.

"The machine, at YogLabsh," said Zylus, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. "It wash an MRI. Magnetic fieldsh interact with electrical onesh, which ish why it felt sho weird. It didn't do anything to you. It wash jusht for imaging. Although it—it probably didn't work. For that."

Rythian was quiet for a long time. He turned his eyes back to the window, watching the blazing city roll by, the glittering traffic.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"I'm not shupposhed to do that, I know," said Zylus. "And I'm shorry. For . . . prying, I guessh. I jusht can't fucking shtand it when—"

"It's fine," said Rythian.

"Don't encourage me," Zylus said dryly, a smile in his voice. "It'sh a bad habit."

A few more minutes passed in silence. The shaking wasn't so bad now, but it was being replaced by a bone-deep fatigue. Rythian could barely keep his eyes open, nodding off as Zylus wound through traffic.

"Sho . . . how'sh Lalna?" Zylus asked, his voice overly casual.

"Huh?" said Rythian, pulling back from the edge of sleep.

"Jusht—you know. Are they . . . doing okay? I don't—I don't really . . . talk to them. They short of make me nervoush, and . . . yeah. I probably _could_ jusht talk to them, and it'd all be fine, but . . . I guessh I'm jusht a coward."

"Lalna's . . . fine?" Rythian guessed.

"Good, good to know," said Zylus. "I guessh you don't have any issuesh with . . . shtuff like thish. Being shtupid about not talking to people when you're—when shomething'sh off. I'm jusht—not ushed to having to. It'sh shtupid, but . . . there it ish. Don't ever get telepathic Powersh, by the way, they shpoil you rotten."

"I'll try not to," said Rythian. "What's . . . sorry, maybe I missed something, but . . . is there something . . . going on? With you and—and Lalna?"

"No, no, nothing," said Zylus. "Jusht—after the whole . . . Lalnable thing, they jusht—I'm jusht a little paranoid, ish all. I could probably get pasht it if I'd jusht fucking _talk_ to them about it, but apparently the anxiety shaysh that'sh not on the table."

"Sucks for you?" Rythian said, puzzled. "Why are you even . . . talking about this? With—with me?"

Zylus glanced at him, bit his lip, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Shorry. Jusht . . . trying to avoid awkward shilenshesh. I'll shut up, shorry."

Rythian rested his forehead against the window and shut his eyes. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

* * *

 

He woke again when Zylus pulled into the community car park, dizzy and bleary.

"Do you want me to shtart you shome tea or shomething?" Zylus asked, cracking his door open and regarding Rythian with pity.

Rythian shrugged. "I don't care. If you feel like it, sure, whatever." He fumbled his seatbelt off and got out of the car, still moving like he had the joints of an eighty-year-old. Behind him, Zylus sighed, and Rythian made his way inside without looking back. He went straight to his room and curled up in bed, his insides cold despite the heat against his skin.

Sleep would not come. Whatever it was that had put him out on the car ride was not working here. He lay staring at nothing, shivering intermittently, hungry and nauseous in equal measures. After about ten minutes, there was a knock on his door. He briefly considered pretending to be asleep, but decided, on an impulse, that he _really_ didn't want to be alone.

"Come in," he mumbled, heaving himself upright in bed.

The door opened slowly and Lalna slipped in, a cup of tea held delicately in their huge hands. They had a worried, mousy look about them, hunching their shoulders and keeping their elbows in tight as though they could shrink their seven-foot-tall frame into something less conspicuous.

"Zylus said you've been out selling your Power," they said, keeping their voice low. "You're frequently ill and unhappy after such excursions, so I decided I'd attempt to help. Zylus provided tea, if you want it."

"Just . . . come here," Rythian said, tired and sore. Lalna came over and sat on the bed, and Rythian leaned against them. There was a low, mechanical thrum to their torso, motors and fans, nothing at all like a heartbeat but comforting nonetheless. They were warm, too, just slightly warmer than the surrounding air. As Rythian leaned against them, they put an arm around him, keeping the tea in their other hand.

"Would you like your tea?" they asked.

With a sigh, Rythian held out his hands. After a moment, Lalna put the mug of tea in them. It was only lukewarm, but it was sugary and creamy and tasted like ambrosia. The two sat in silence until the mug was empty, and Rythian put it on his nightstand with a sigh.

"Thank you," he said, snuggling up close to Lalna again.

"My pleasure," said Lalna. They kissed the top of his head, drawing circles on his arm with their thumb. A little time passed, quiet and drowsy.

"Rythian?" Lalna said.

"Mm?" His eyelids were heavy, but he was still shivering every so often.

"Why do you sell your Power, if it affects you so negatively?"

The words _I don't want to talk about it_ leapt to the tip of Rythian's tongue, but he clamped his teeth shut on them before they could get out of his mouth. They were a coward's dodge, and he was feeling pathetic enough already. He swallowed them back down, taking deep breaths and trying to formulate a coherent answer.

"Because . . . I can't do anything else," he said at last.

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "I don't understand," they said. "You do many other things, frequently."

Shaking his head, Rythian said, "I meant—it's just that. . . ." He sighed and curled a little closer to Lalna. When he spoke again, his voice was low and bitter. "I learned a long time ago that there isn't any other place in the world for someone like me. There aren't any other jobs I can do. If I want to survive, at all, it's either this or—or being a _parasite_ on other people's hard work. Begging. Stealing. Or—whatever the hell I'm doing now, with Nano and . . . everyone. I feel like—it doesn't matter how much it sucks, or anything like that, because it's the only thing I can do that pays the rent, and I—I have to do that. Or at least try. Otherwise I'm worse than useless."

The speech left him hollowed out, flimsy. The tea was not sitting well in his stomach. His skin was flushed, prickling, but there was still that sense of _coldness_ through his insides. Lalna did not respond immediately, something within them clicking and whirring as they thought.

"That's a very unpleasant situation," they concluded at last.

Rythian snorted. "You're telling me," he said.

"If you'd like, I could attempt to find other forms of employment that you're qualified for," they said.

"It doesn't matter," Rythian said, the words heavy in his chest. "Nobody wants to hire someone who could accidentally kill one of their employees just by touching them. Or who shorts out pretty much any machine they touch. Qualifications don't matter. I'm a liability."

Again, Lalna was quiet for some time. They squeezed him, gentle and strong.

"I'm sorry," they said. "I'd like to help, but I don't know what I can do."

Rythian butted them lightly in the chest. "You're helping now," he said.

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'm glad."

Several minutes passed in companionable silence. Up against the thrum of Lalna's systems, Rythian started to fall asleep again, exhaustion giving way to something softer.

"Rythian?" Lalna said quietly, rousing him.

"Mm?" he said, sitting up straighter. He'd been slowly capsizing into their lap.

"I have something that I would like to tell you," they said.

"Okay?" said Rythian. He glanced up at them. Their eyes were pure white, their eyebrows drawn together in an exaggerated expression of worry. The coldness through his insides swelled, reaching all the way up into his chest, his heart.

"I am afraid you will not love me anymore once I tell you," they said, scarcely audible.

"Oh, _Lalna,_ no," said Rythian, clutching them. "No, Christ, there's _nothing_ you could say to me that would _ever_ make me stop loving you. Nothing. I can't—I can't even imagine."

Lalna did not speak for quite some time, although their internal systems continued clicking and whirring. When they did speak, their voice was soft and timid.

"I have done extensive research and I have come to the conclusion that I am likely asexual," they said.

It was like a swift punch to the gut. Rythian stared at them, sickness boiling in his stomach, his bones filling with bile. He pulled away from them and put a hand over his mouth, tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "Oh, God, Lalna, I'm—Christ, I'm so sorry, I didn't—I didn't know, and all this time, I've been—oh, _Christ,_ I'm so sorry, I didn't—I never would have—Lalna, I. . . ."

Lalna tipped their head to the side, their eyes turning a vibrant orange.

"I don't understand," they said. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I—because I—because you—" He gestured weakly, unable to make himself say it. The terrible weight of what he'd done was crushing him, squeezing him down to nothing.

Something in Lalna spun up, and their eyes went dark.

"You believe you have hurt me," they said after a few seconds, the light coming back on in their eyes.

 _"Believe?_ Of—of course I—Christ, I can't—"

"You haven't hurt me," they told him gently. They reached out to him, offered their hand, but did not touch him.

"But—but you said—" Rythian stammered, breathless and crying.

Again, they tipped their head to the side. "Do you understand asexuality?"

"I—well, I mean, Zylus is—I thought—"

They nodded, their eyes shifting more towards green.

"I see," they said. "I believe I understand where your distress is coming from." They smiled at him. "Let me show you a blog."


	14. Chapter 13

The morning was unremarkable, and this somehow made it hollow. Nilesy lay in bed until Lyndon came and scratched at his door. He went out into the main room and fed him, then went right back to bed before anyone could accost him. Undoubtedly, someone would come bother him before afternoon, cajole him into eating something, but until then he reveled in his loneliness. This was a day for loneliness, if any days were for such things. It had always been a lonely, hollow sort of day.

Twenty-four, he thought, was a terribly round number. Eight times three. Three lifetimes strung together, neat and perfect, here on the anniversary of his death.

And three of him, all squashed together in his head, no matter if two of them were sleeping. He wondered if there would come another in the next eight years.

He wondered, throughout the hollow morning, if it should even be allowed a chance.

Eventually, it was Lomadia who came to get him, which he had expected, but nonetheless had not been prepared for. She knocked lightly on his door and took his incoherent mumbling as an invitation to enter, then came and sat on his bed and immediately started petting his hair.

"It's almost noon," she told him. "It's time for you to get out of bed."

Nilesy groaned and hid his face in his pillow. She didn't stop petting his hair.

"Can't I have _one day off?"_ he asked, muffled by the pillow.

"No," said Lomadia. "It's really bad for you. You've at least got to drink water because it's a desert and you'll die if you don't."

Nilesy raised a hand, reaching out for the water in the bathroom faucet, and stopped. He let his arm fall back to the bed. Something cold was trickling through his chest, coating the outsides of his lungs. They shrank from the sensation, leaving him struggling to breathe.

"Nilesy?" Lomadia asked, sounding very distant.

He shook his head and forced himself to sit up, although the movement made his head spin.

"I'm fine, dear," he said, although his voice was so thin he could barely hear it through the ringing in his ears.

"That's not good," said Lomadia, taking him into her arms and holding him tightly. "You only ever say you're fine when you're really really _not_ fine."

"Who told you that?" he asked. Her warmth was suffusing him, driving off the incipient shivers.

"Nobody," said Lomadia. "I figured it out ages ago."

"Of course you did," he sighed, pressing his forehead to her chest.

Eventually, she managed to coax him out of bed, made him tea and goaded him into eating something. Panda and Nano were out at work, and Zylus was in his room, as always. Lalna and Rythian were most likely over on the other side of the duplex, possibly even together. Zylus had gotten unaccountably smug about twenty minutes after picking Rythian up from the Power-trader two days ago, so Nilesy assumed that he'd done something sneaky and it had worked out.

Lomadia stayed up with him until nearly two p.m., when she started falling asleep on the couch and he scolded her until she went to bed. He stayed out for another hour or so, shining a laser pointer around the room for Lyndon to chase frantically. Eventually, though, Lyndon got bored or tired or both, and lay down on the floor and stared at Nilesy like he was some kind of idiot. Nilesy gave him a good scratch behind the ears and then went back to his room before anyone came home from work. As a concession to the spirit of Lomadia, he took a banana and a glass of water back with him.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, simultaneously lasting forever and no time at all. At some point through it, the smell of baking filled the house, and he wondered idly if relations had fallen apart between Rythian and Lalna already.

Just past seven, someone came and knocked on his door. To his surprise, it was Nano.

"Hey," she said, poking her head in. "Sorry, but um, the rest of us are all having dinner together, and we were wondering if you'd want to join."

He was a hair's breadth away from saying no, but then she added, "Panda's made vindaloo, if that helps."

With a sigh, he heaved himself out of bed and combed his fingers through his hair.

"Well, I'd hate to put all that effort to waste," he said, failing to convincingly effect his customary levity. Nano just smiled at him and left the door open when she walked away.

Dinner was exhausting, mostly because he had to spend the entire thing pretending he wasn't crumbling and forcing himself to actually eat. The others didn't seem to notice, or if they did, they didn't say anything. Panda occasionally nudged him with a foot under the table, but that was fairly standard.

After dinner, Lalna collected all the dishes and took them to the kitchen. An odd silence fell over the table, expectant. Something dug claws into the back of Nilesy's neck, clinging in tension. He was on the verge of speaking up about it, saying something, _anything,_ when Lalna came back out of the kitchen.

They were holding a beautiful chocolate cake, decorated with pink icing roses, purple and blue sprinkles, green lettering. There was a forest of multicolored candles on top, the flames golden and steady under the care of Lalna's unwavering hands.

Lalna smiled at him, the light of the candles turning their face gold.

"Happy birthday," they said.

"Oh," said Nilesy, his voice a bare breath, wheezed out past the lump in his throat. Something trickled down each of his cheeks as his vision blurred. "Um. I—oh. Right. That—that was today, was it? Slipped—must've slipped my mind, ahah."

Lalna set the cake down in front of him. Nilesy sniffled and wiped his face, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"I believe it's customary to sing," Lalna said.

"Oh, God, no, you haven't—don't, I'll go to bits—" he protested weakly, smiling and wiping the steady flow of tears off his face.

_"How_ long have you been living with him?" Nano muttered to Panda.

"He never told us! We would've done stuff, but he wouldn't tell us when it was!"

"You couldn't've _made up_ a day?"

"There was _stuff_ going on, all right?"

She turned to Zylus. "And where were _you_ in all this?"

He scowled. "I missh _one tiny thing,_ and shuddenly you're doubting my prowessh."

"If you don't want singing, that's okay," Lalna was saying to Nilesy. "But it's required that you blow out the candles. You're also supposed to make a wish."

"Right. Right, yeah," said Nilesy, still sniffling, still weeping, still smiling. "God. Okay. Wishes. Ah. . . ."

Colorful wax was dripping onto the perfect icing. His nose was running profusely. There was a pain in his chest that he never wanted to go away. Across the table, Zylus and Nano were prodding each other, bantering. Lyndon leapt up on the table and Panda, with a loud scolding, hoisted him up and snuggled him against his chest, while Lomadia watched Nano with dewy eyes and Rythian sat smiling quietly to himself, cheek propped on his hand. Lalna touched Nilesy's shoulder and gestured to the cake.

"Make a wish," they prompted.

Nilesy took a deep breath, watching the quivering brightness of the flames.

_Just let me keep this,_ he thought, as hard as he possibly could.

It took all the breath in his lungs, but he blew out every last candle. The others applauded him, and then fell immediately to slicing up and handing out the cake, chattering happily amongst themselves.

Undoubtedly, it was the best birthday he'd ever had.

* * *

 

After the cake came presents, which left Nilesy so overwhelmed he lost his voice. From Nano there was a gift card to an online store, presented rather sheepishly; from Lalna, an exquisitely crafted bouquet of metal flowers; from Panda, a heavy book on ocean biology. Lomadia had gotten him a little necklace with a gold cat charm, which she had to put on him because his hands had gone clumsy. Lyndon colonized the pile of wrapping paper, crinkling it quietly and constantly. Even Rythian had gotten him something, a mug with _Chillin' Like A Villain_ printed on it over a snowy backdrop. Zylus quietly handed him a thick album labeled _Family Photos_ in fancy letters.

The pages were filled with glossy prints of the seven of them (and Lyndon) from the past eleven months—laughing, joking, making stupid faces and silly poses, candid shots and composed portraits.

Nilesy broke down entirely at that one, and it took twenty minutes and half a box of tissues for him to even slightly regain his composure. He still couldn't find his voice, which was unfortunate, but under the circumstances he felt he didn't particularly need it. When all was said and done, the lot of them settled in the main room, chatting happily. Nilesy laid himself across Lomadia and Panda where they sat on the couch, his shoulders in Lomadia's lap and his legs in Panda's.

"Why does _she_ get the cute end?" Panda demanded, when Lomadia leaned down and kissed Nilesy's forehead.

Nilesy regarded him for a moment, then picked up one leg and slowly moved his bare foot into Panda's face. Panda leaned back, making noises of disgust, but Nilesy pursued him, smiling wider and wider, until Panda grabbed his ankle and started tickling him relentlessly. With a yelp, he thrashed, and Lomadia caught him by the shoulders and prevented his escape.

"Stop! _Stop_ stop stop!" Nilesy gasped, teary-eyed with laughter. Panda put his leg down and leaned his arms on Nilesy's shins, apparently satisfied. "It's no fair, the two of you ganging up on me like that."

"Nope," Lomadia said, and kissed his forehead again.

"I'm going to be sick," Nano said. "Panda, have you bolused for this? This is _too_ fucking sweet."

Shortly after, Zylus started in on his weekly drinking, although he kept it moderate. Games were played, more cake eaten, tea made. Slowly, the crew began trickling away. The first to go was Lomadia, heading off for work. Then was Panda, glowing with the success of having his blood sugar in range despite the cake and excitement. Nano and Lalna headed back to their own side of the duplex shortly after eleven.

At some point, a tension had sprung up in the room. The games had been shut down and put away, and now, with just Zylus, Rythian, and Nilesy in the room, there was a thickness in the air, a cloud of words unspoken. Zylus's drinking had accelerated the longer it went on, until he was back to taking swigs straight out of the bottle.

Eventually, Zylus put his hands on his knees and heaved himself to his feet.

"If anybody needsh me," he said, not looking at either of them, "I'm taking the resht of the weekly drink-a-thon to my room."

He took his bottle and walked out, and Nilesy clenched his hand on the arm of the sofa to keep from grabbing him as he went by, _begging_ him not to leave him there, not when everything had been going so well. Even if Zylus was too drunk to hear Nilesy's thoughts just now, there was no way he didn't know what he was doing.

For nearly two minutes, there was silence in the room.

Rythian took a deep breath, and Nilesy braced himself.

"I'm sorry," Rythian said.

_"Are_ you?" Nilesy blurted, the words coming out more accusatory, more flippant than he'd intended, because he'd been taken so completely by surprise.

Rythian ducked his head, his shoulders slumping in guilt.

"I—yes," he said. "I am. I . . . for the way I've been treating you. For the past . . . nine months. It was—it was cruel and . . . and irresponsible, and I'm . . . sorry. I'm sorry."

Nilesy watched him for a long moment, his chest aching. He focused on breathing, letting the words percolate through his mind.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Rythian shrank again, glanced at Nilesy, and got to his feet. He ran a hand back over his head and cocked a thumb at the door.

"I should—go to bed," he said. "Um."

"G'night then," said Nilesy, his voice once again coming out unreasonably flippant. He bit the inside of his cheek, wincing. "No, sorry, that . . . came out a bit wrong. Really. I should be heading that way myself, honestly."

Nilesy got up, feeling old. Rythian stood there, half-turned away, his brow furrowed. He bit his lip, then turned back to Nilesy, wrapping his arms around his own waist.

"Nilesy," he said. "Are you . . . all right?"

Nilesy dropped his gaze and a laugh slipped through his teeth. He shrugged helplessly.

"Never," he admitted.

"I'm sorry," said Rythian.

"Yeah, well," Nilesy sighed. "You get used to it after a few years."

There was a silence between them, less strained than was customary.

"Um," said Rythian. He opened his arms in something between a shrug and an invitation. "Awkward ex hug?"

Nilesy laughed in earnest at that one, the sound bubbling out of him gleaming and bright.

"All right," he said. "Awkward ex hug."

He crossed the room in two quick strides and carefully folded Rythian in his arms. Rythian hugged him back, his grip tight and earnest. Nilesy squeezed him, reveling in the scent of him, the warmth, the faint electric tingle of his skin. He rested his forehead against the crook of Rythian's neck and sighed.

They stood like that for a good minute, until finally Nilesy started to pull away. He took Rythian's hands in his own and stepped back, keeping his eyes lowered. Of their own accord, his thumbs were rubbing Rythian's knuckles.

"If ever you wanted to give it another go," he said quietly. "I'll be here."

Rythian took a slow and careful breath. He squeezed Nilesy's hands.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll . . . keep that in mind."

Nilesy snorted. "S'pose I deserved that."

"It's not about deserving."

Another minute passed. Nilesy uncurled his fingers, releasing Rythian's hands. With some reluctance, Rythian stepped away, wrapping his arms around his own waist again.

"I should . . . really get going," he said.

"Most likely," said Nilesy. "Good night, Rythian."

"Good—good night, Nilesy," said Rythian. He went to the door, opened it, then looked back. "And, um. Happy birthday."

Nilesy smiled. "Thanks."

Rythian hesitated a moment longer, then nodded and went out the door. Nilesy stayed there, running his thumbs across his fingertips until Lyndon came up and cannoned into his legs.

"Oh, _what,"_ said Nilesy, reaching down to pet him. Lyndon allowed him one touch before he walked off, heading for the corridor.

"Don't you go in my room, Lyndon," Nilesy warned, going after him. Lyndon sauntered along, pretending he couldn't hear. "Don't you do it, you tremendous beast."

Lyndon continued on into the corridor, his tail swishing regally. Nilesy caught him up and got to his room first. Just outside the door, he whirled on the cat, stern. Lyndon puffed up and stiffened, crouching in preparation to run.

"You stay out here, now," Nilesy said, wagging a finger at him. "I'll not have you climbing on my face at five o'clock in the goddamn morning ag—"

Lyndon dashed past Nilesy, sprinting for the bed.

_"Lyndon!"_ Nilesy snapped, darting into the room after him. He flung himself full-length on the floor, but Lyndon slipped through his fingers and disappeared into the darkness under the bed.

Scowling, Nilesy said, "Fine, stay under there then. You'll come out soon as you're bored and _then_ I'll have you."

Distantly, there was the sound of purring.

"Horrid wretch," Nilesy said affectionately. He picked himself up and dusted himself off. He turned and nearly jumped out of his skin.

Zylus was standing in his doorway, watching him.

Nilesy put his hands over his face and folded over, swallowing down nervous giggles.

"Jesus Christ, don't fucking _do_ that," he said, rubbing his face to make it stop prickling. When he straightened up and took his hands away, Zylus was suddenly much closer. Nilesy opened his mouth to say something else and Zylus caught his jaw in one hand. His eyes were unfocused, his face grim. He stank of alcohol.

"Zylus, what—" Nilesy began.

Zylus kissed him, full on the mouth, his hand painfully tight on Nilesy's jaw. Nilesy stiffened, frozen in place with his head spinning and his stomach churning. Zylus's tongue brushed his lips and he somehow found the presence of mind to push him in the chest, although there was no strength in his arms. The fumes on Zylus's breath were probably enough to get Nilesy drunk on their own, with enough exposure.

As suddenly as he'd started, Zylus broke off, dropping Nilesy and turning away.

"Nope," he said, stumbling back to the door. "Shtill don't get it."

He walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

Nilesy stood there for a good few minutes, paralyzed. His lips were tingling, the prints of Zylus's fingers pulsing on his jaw. Slowly, he crept to the door, wide-eyed and unable to catch his breath.

He shut the door. After a moment of consideration, he locked it, too.

* * *

 

Nilesy didn't sleep well that night. He kept replaying the kiss over and over in his head, unable to let it go. It didn't make _sense._ He couldn't think of a reason Zylus would _do_ something like that, even if he was drunk (which he clearly had been). He tossed and turned for hours, snatching minutes of sleep in the cracks of his consciousness. His dreams were vague and sickly things, sticky and pale and uncomfortable. He kept waking up with his lips tingling, the fingerprints on his jaw throbbing like bruises.

At some point, dawn rolled around. Someone came and knocked at his door. He lay perfectly still, keeping his breathing slow and even, and eventually they went away. Lyndon clawed at his door shortly after, apparently having snuck back out while Nilesy wasn't paying attention, but even then he didn't get out of bed. Someone else would tend to him, and after about ten minutes of ceaseless meowing, someone did. Nilesy rolled over in bed and put his pillow over his head.

In the end, there was nothing for it. Sometime in the early afternoon, he forced himself to get up and get dressed. Creeping like a thief, he made his way to Zylus's door and knocked quietly.

"Zylus?" he said.

There was a quiet grumbling from inside, and then Zylus called, "Come in."

Nilesy slipped in. His hands were sweaty, his stomach knotted up with dread. He couldn't bring himself to look directly at Zylus, but it was clear that he was immensely hungover. He was slouching in his computer chair, a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal next to his mouse pad. He was sipping at a mug of black coffee and there were dark gray smudges under his eyes. He was still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

"Erm," said Nilesy, shutting the door behind him. "Can I—is it all right if I—"

Zylus tipped his head towards the bed. "Over there," he said. Nilesy sidled over to the bed and sat on it carefully, as though it would break under his weight. He leaned his elbows on his knees and hunched his shoulders and tried to find the words to say.

"I think we should . . . talk," he said at last. "About . . . last night."

Zylus raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Well—well," said Nilesy, thrown. "I mean, it's not the sort of—you don't just—how drunk _were_ you, anyway?"

He shrugged, turning his eyes to his computer and fooling with his mouse. "I don't know. Pretty fucking drunk. I'm pretty fucking _hungover,_ sho that tellsh you shomething."

"D'you . . . remember?" Nilesy asked, sick to his stomach.

Zylus glanced at him. "Not _that_ drunk," he said.

"Then—look, why're you being so _difficult_ about this, you _know_ what I'm talking about—"

"I really don't, Nileshy."

He took a deep breath and put his face in his hands. "I think . . . we need to talk about . . . the fact you kissed me."

There was a long, taut silence.

"I'm shorry," Zylus said at last, "what the fuck did you jusht shay?"

"Look, I know it's not comfortable for you, either, but I can't just pretend like it didn't happen, and if it's going to be a—a _thing,_ I don't . . . I don't _want_ it to be a thing—"

"Nileshy, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?" Zylus said, his voice hard.

Nilesy looked up, confused and smarting. "I—what are _you_ talking about?"

"I never fucking kisshed you, that'sh fucking dishgusting," Zylus said. His lip curled.

"You—but you _did,"_ said Nilesy. "If it's not going to happen again, fine, we'll leave it at that, but—"

"There'sh no _again,_ Nileshy," Zylus interrupted sharply. "It didn't happen. Jeshush Chrisht, I thought we were pasht thish."

"Past—past what?"

"That shtupid fucking crush you had on me," Zylus said. "Or _have,_ apparently. Fuck'sh shake, you could at leasht keep it in your head."

"It wasn't—Zylus, this _really happened,"_ Nilesy said, a fluttering of panic in his chest, an ache in his head.

"No it fucking didn't," Zylus retorted. "I think I'd fucking know."

"But—no, that's not—"

Zylus sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing.

"Look, Nileshy, I know you've been having shome pretty crazy fucking dreamsh lately," he said heavily. "I haven't shaid anything about it becaushe it'sh not my bushinessh. But . . . honeshtly, learn to tell the differenshe between them and reality."

"It—it wasn't a fucking _dream,_ it _happened,"_ Nilesy said. His eyes were stinging with tears, his throat seizing up.

"I'm telling you, _it didn't,"_ Zylus said. He sighed again. "I know you _remember_ it happening. I know it'sh in your head, becaushe I can shee you thinking about it, which ish why I'm having a hard time not throwing up. But it _washn't real,_ Nileshy. I know it'sh not your fault, what goesh on in your head, but . . . fuck'sh shake, pleashe _keep_ it there."

"I'm . . . sorry," Nilesy said, unable to think of anything else to say. He couldn't seem to breathe right, he couldn't blink the tears out of his eyes, his stomach was full of worms. His face was prickling like it was covered in ants.

"Whatever," Zylus said. "Jusht . . . pleashe don't make me have thish convershation with you again. Pleashe."

"I won't," said Nilesy. "I'm—God, Zylus, I'm so sorry, I just . . . I thought—"

"I know what you thought," Zylus said, tired. "Pleashe go now. You're really _not_ helping the hangover."

Nilesy got up and left Zylus's room without a further word, burning with shame and sick with guilt.

He locked himself in his room for the rest of the day, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He could feel the mask watching him through the mattress.

How nice it would be, he thought, to forget about all of this for a few hours. How nice to forget how to be afraid. . . .


	15. Chapter 14

William Strife was not having a good day.

He leaned his elbows on his desk, gesturing sharply with his lit cigar. The little woman in the chair across from him watched the burning end nervously.

"So lemme get this _straight,"_ Strife growled. "I pay your salary. I put food on your table and a roof over your head. I make sure you and your kids and your pretty little wife get access to _practically_ unlimited medical care, and you decide you're just gonna waltz into my office and tell me I'm _stupid?"_

"N-no, no sir, no, that's—that's not even remotely what I said!" the little woman squeaked, tugging at her tie. She was sweating profusely. "I-I-I just think, perhaps, our resources would be—would be better spent elsewhere, ah, sir. I-I-I drew up a plan, sir, if you'd just—"

Strife pressed the lit tip of his cigar to the papers sitting in front of the little woman until they caught fire. She swallowed, going even whiter.

"Ah. Yes. I see—I see you don't, er, approve. Sir."

"Brantley, what's your job?" Strife asked, watching the smoke curl off the end of his cigar.

"Uh, r-regional manager for the—the American branch, sir."

"No," said Strife. He took a drag off the cigar, swirled the smoke around in his mouth, and blew it out his nose. _"Your_ job, Brantley, like _everybody's_ job here, is to _do what I tell you._ Now, riddle me this, Batgirl: when did I _ever_ tell you to mess around with _my_ projects using _my_ resources?"

"W-well, uh, sir," said Brantley. She made a valiant effort to stand up for herself, puffing out her chest like a fledgeling rooster. "Considering it's been eleven months and there's been no sign of the killers, sir, I thought it was pointless to keep looking."

"You _thought,"_ said Strife, glaring at the woman. She deflated like an old balloon. "Brantley, lemme tell you something about serial killers that you would've known if you'd taken two _seconds_ to google it. You ready? _They don't stop._ They either die or they get caught. _So,_ our most infamous water-wielding freak kills Llewellyn Xephos and skips town. Statistically unlikely bimonthly drownings here in Bristol _stop."_

He clicked his fingers for emphasis. Brantley flinched.

"You still with me there, honey, or should I slow down?"

"N-no, sir, I—I under—"

 _"Good._ So our merry murderers skip town and head off _somewhere._ Where do they go? Plenty of places for freaks to hide out, so we got nothing to start with. Oh, except our serial killer, who we _really_ don't think is dead, and who would've been just _all over_ the news if he'd been caught. So what do we _do,_ Brantley?"

"We . . . we keep track of all reported drownings worldwide, Mr. Strife."

"Very _good,_ Brantley. And what do we _do_ with these records?"

"Set them up to flag an alert whenever more than one drowning occurs in the same city within three months, sir," Brantley mumbled.

"That's _right!_ See, I knew you weren't a total moron."

"Sir, I just don't see why it's necessary to find them!" Brantley said.

"Of course you don't, Brantley, because you're _nearly_ a total moron," Strife snapped. "Keep up _that_ level of critical thinking and you'll be on the YogLabs Admin Board in _no time."_

Once again, Brantley attempted to rally herself. "But sir, even aside from that: withholding the biomedical product is costing us _thousands_ a day. If someone else releases similar technology before we do, we could lose _millions."_

"Brantley, do I look like a guy who cares about money?" Strife asked.

"Um," said Brantley, her eyes darting.

"Y'know, Brantley, lemme impart to you a little wisdom," said Strife. He sucked on his cigar again and blew the smoke out slowly, savoring the taste. "At some point, you find something in your life that's a lot more important to you than money. Now, I just happened to find mine when I was already a _billionaire,_ but that's not the _point._ The _point_ is, Brantley, that I wouldn't give two craps if this whole thing landed me penniless in the _gutter._ So you keep that watchlist running, and you keep that biotech _locked down,_ and you do your damn _job,_ which is to do what I tell you. Understand me, Brantley?"

"Yes, sir," Brantley said. "But—certainly there's better ways to find these people. Facial recognition, or—"

"Brantley," Strife interrupted. "I'm about four words away from throwing you out the freakin' window right now. You know what story we're on, Brantley? You know the _survivability_ of a hundred-story fall, Brantley? You planning on sprouting wings sometime in the eleven seconds it's gonna take you to hit the _fucking_ pavement, Brantley?"

Brantley gulped and said nothing. Strife jabbed his lit cigar at the door.

"Get out," he ordered. Brantley got up and scuttled out, nearly in tears.

Strife sat back and put his feet on his desk, not in satisfaction but out of habit. He puffed on the cigar, his mind miles away.

He'd tried damn near everything. Everyone who had a good facial recognition database had put it out of reach, under government control. He had a good hunch the band of misfits had fled to America, but the American military, it turned out, was _not_ amenable to handing over billions of terabytes' worth of data to an expat, no matter _how_ much money he offered them. Less-legal avenues had also run up against dead-ends, one of which got seventeen independent (teenaged) contractors shuttled off to prison for posing international security risks. Their paychecks, fortunately, had been totally fabricated, and therefore untraceable.

When facial recognition went thoroughly bust, he'd tried looking for the person who'd gotten them out of the country. They hadn't gone through the commercial airlines, and he couldn't even be sure when they'd left, so nailing down which private jet had been theirs was nigh impossible. Even then, it was likely they'd given a false destination and passenger load and changed their story somewhere over the Atlantic. They could be anywhere from Portland to Polokwane, and he'd have no way of pinning them down. Likewise, there were so many shady agents around Bristol alone that it was like finding a particular cockroach in a hoarder's den.

Over the months, Strife's red-hot fervor had cooled, hammered into something steely and sharp. Brute force was not sufficient, and so he'd sat down and laid out a plan.

He was just about to run through it for the thousandth time when the door to his office burst open and Parvis swanned in like he owned the place.

"Strifey!" he cried, a diva arriving late to his own premiere. All of Strife's skin made a determined bid to crawl to the top of his skull and leap over the back of his chair, possibly making for the window. Strife had half a mind to follow it.

"Parvis," he said, clenching his teeth. "I _told_ you not to come up here when I'm _working."_

"But you're _not_ working," Parvis said, pouting. His eyes were huge and wet and still exactly as horrifying as the day Strife had retrieved him from the bowels of YogLabs.

"I think I know when I'm working, Parvis," said Strife.

"You're not working _anymore,_ then," said Parvis. He sauntered up and leaned over the desk, propping his chin on his laced fingers. Strife's body shrank back into his chair of its own accord.

"Uh, yeah, last time I checked, you don't set my hours," said Strife.

The smile froze on Parvis's face, a mannequin smile, a madman's smile.

"I think you're done working, Strifey," he said quietly. "I think you're going to play with me now. Or else I'm going to play with _you."_

"Now—now Parvis," Strife said, his heart in his throat. "We talked about this. We don't _do_ this during—during business hours anymore."

"Yes we _do,"_ Parvis snarled, his whole body hardening around the edges like he'd snapped into focus. A bolt of electricity went straight from Strife's hindbrain to his legs, making them jerk suddenly as they tried to throw him backwards out the window.

"Oh yeah, right," Strife said, his voice squeaking. "We sure do. Ha ha."

Parvis went soft again, grinning, then crawled across the desk and into Strife's lap, sliding his hands back over the other man's shoulders. He was cold, like a plastic thing made to move with puppet strings. He kissed Strife, messily, open-mouthed. He tasted of metal.

Parvis whined and rocked his hips back and forth. He dragged his hands down to Strife's chest and leaned back, pouting.

"You don't love me anymore," he declared.

"N-no, that's . . . that's not true," Strife said. He kept glancing at Parvis's eyes. They had the same draw as a car wreck, so uniquely gruesome that it was hard not to look.

"You don't _want_ me anymore," said Parvis. To illustrate his point, he rocked his hips again. The parts of Strife on trial were doing their damnedest to retreat to the safety of his stomach.

"Parvis," said Strife, nerves leaving his smile strained and his voice shaking. "Parv. Li—listen, it's not you. It's really not! It's just, aw, man, y'know, I've been so stressed out, with those freaks who killed Xephos still on the loose. It's hard to uh . . . real hard to get _into_ anything, hey? With that kinda stuff hanging over you all the time."

Parvis watched him for a long moment, unreadable. Then, as though a switch had been flipped, his face morphed into a caricature of pity, and he took Strife's face in his hands and kissed his forehead.

"Oh, my _poor_ Strifey!" he cooed, clutching Strife's head to his chest. "That must be so horrible for you, so scared all the time that some nasty freak is going to come and tear you to bits."

 _"Oh_ yeah," Strife said emphatically, keeping his hands firmly clenched on the arms of his chair. "Yeah, it'll—it'll really mess you up."

Parvis sat back and smiled at him. It was clearly meant to be reassuring, but somewhere between the plastic-cold skin and the hideous eyes, it fell short.

"Don't you worry, Strifey," said Parvis. "I'll kill those horrible freaks for you, and then we'll be together for ever and ever."

"Uh, n-no, no no, you can't—you can't kill 'em, Parv," said Strife. "Uh, see, 'cause it's _better,_ uh, if we have them here _alive,_ hey?"

With a gasp, Parvis lit up like a firework. "Of course!" he cried. "Oh, yes, they're _ever_ so much more fun to play with when they're alive. _Will_ you let me play with them, Strifey? Say you will. Say I can play with the horrible freaks when we've got them."

"Well—well _some_ of them," Strife allowed. "Most of 'em. There's uh . . . y'know, I got some vested interests to take care of."

"How many is _most?"_ Parvis asked, his horrible eyes narrowing.

"Let's uh—let's table that for now, hey?"

"No. I want to know _now._ Tell me how many toys I'm getting, Strifey. Tell me, tell me!"

He bounced up and down in Strife's lap, a spoiled child impatient for more spoiling.

"Put it at, uh, put it at three," said Strife, fighting down revulsion. "Three for you, and uh, three for me. Fair, right?"

"Only _three?"_ Parvis whined.

"For _now,_ Parvis, uh, or for whenever we get 'em. It's—it's all . . . _real_ up in the air, right now, hey?"

"But once you're _done_ with yours, can I have them?"

"Yeah, yeah, Parvis, they're all yours," said Strife.

"And if I bring you them, you'll want me again?"

"Sure, yeah. 'Course I will, Parv," said Strife, hoping like hell that Parvis was too crazy to spot even an obvious lie.

Parvis kissed him again, which Strife took to mean that he'd bought it.

* * *

 

"All _right,"_ said Kirin, flipping to a new page in his notebook. "Lastly but not leastly, how's our Strife Solutions branch?"

Strife, who had been struggling to pay attention all meeting, cleared his throat and shuffled his notes. The use of the word _branch_ still made him grind his teeth, even after a year of hearing it almost daily.

"Right, uhh . . . right. Well, the uh, the rare-earths mines are still pulling in money hand over fist, not surprising. Had some EPA idiots try and audit us, but they're easy to buy."

"Strife, your candid discussion of highly illegal business practices never fails to tickle me," Kirin said, smiling faintly.

"I'm not the one who bought 'em," Strife said. "Might've mentioned to our military contracts that an EPA audit meant production on yttrium-doped glass would grind to a standstill and they'd have to do without a couple hundred laser-guided missiles."

"You Americans," Hulmes said, shaking his head sadly. "Paying off your own regulation agencies from your military's pocket. The money just goes _round_ and _round!"_

"Not my military anymore," Strife said, not without a hint of bitterness. "And don't pretend it's any different over here."

"Slightly different," Lying said. "We do _generally_ have the decency not to mention it."

Ridge yawned, not even bothering to hide it.

 _"Anyway,"_ said Strife. "Audit. Didn't happen. Military contracts are in good shape, both U. S. and foreign." _Fat lo_ _ad_ _of good they did me,_ he thought. "R &D's got a new phone chip to roll out in November, should make for a good haul. The Siberian GMOs are growing up nice and fat, should bottom out the potato market for a couple years before—"

"Yeah, okay, if we're gonna talk farming, I'm gonna sleep," Ridge interrupted. "C'mon, you guys _gotta_ have something shiny in medical, right?"

"You are the most selfish, entitled _prick_ I have ever met," Strife snapped at him.

"Good grief," said Kirin, amused.

"Oh _do_ go on," Lying said, grinning hugely. They laced their fingers and rested their chin on them, fluttering their eyelashes.

A slow smile spread across Ridge's face.

"Temper, temper!" he said. "I hope the _illustrious_ Mr. Strife will forgive this poor selfish, entitled prick if his interests trend towards the branch of the company he manages."

"I hope you'll forgive _the_ _illustrious Mr. Strife_ if he's too busy crashing the potato market so he can be a _trillionaire_ in ten years," Strife retorted, "to give one single damn about _your branch_ of the company."

"Gentlemen," Kirin warned. "Do this little dance on your own time, _if_ you wouldn't mind."

Ridge spread his hands, effecting an expression of unconcern.

"Jeez, sorry, sorry," he said. "Just, y'know, _my_ R &D goons are forty percent of the way through a serum that grows back _limbs,_ and he's wasting my time with potatoes."

"If you don't like the damn potatoes, you can find your own damn funding," Strife said.

Lying leaned over and whispered something in Hulmes's ear. Hulmes stifled a giggle. Petty cash—a couple of hundreds—was placed on the table between them.

"I really am serious," Kirin mentioned. "This kind of bickering is unprofessional and unproductive."

"It's not even _cool,"_ Ridge whined. "Hell, at least the military contracts are _cool._ How am I gonna stand up in front of a jillion people and tell 'em my magic serum was paid for with _big potatoes?"_

"Er," came a quiet voice.

Every head in the room turned, slowly. Honeydew, scratching his ginger beard, his round face pulled into a heavy frown, had a hand in the air.

"Yes, Honeydew?" Kirin said. "You had something to add?"

"Well, er," said Honeydew, "it's just that it won't work with potatoes."

There were five seconds of dead silence.

"What?" said Strife.

"Well, like, your plan, right?" said Honeydew. "To get rich off potatoes. 'Cause, I think what you're gonna do is, like, crash the market with your new potatoes, buy up everything, and then raise prices sky high. Like you did with the uh, the whatcha-callit, the carburetors. Yeah?"

"...Yeah," Strife said cautiously.

"Only I don't guess you told the people who made the fancy new potatoes that, yeah?"

"Y—no," said Strife. "I . . . did not. Do that."

"It won't work with potatoes," Honeydew said again. "Anybody works with potatoes'll tell you that. 'Cause like, one potato's got half a dozen eyes, at least. You cut up a potato and put the eyes in the ground with a bit of potato left on 'em and in ten weeks you got six new potatoes with six eyes each, and then you cut _them_ up and in ten weeks you got, err. . . ."

"Thirty-six potatoes," Lying said helpfully.

"Yeah, that. So if you start chargin' an arm and a leg for potatoes, everybody'll just buy _one_ and then grow their own. You'll have every backyard farmer growin' potatoes out their arses inside of a year. Can't get rich off special potatoes, unless they ain't got eyes."

Strife stared at him. He opened his mouth. He closed it again.

"Oh," he said. Internally, framed in flashing dollar-signs, he wondered: _Can you copyright a potato?_

 _"See?"_ Ridge leered, disgustingly pleased with himself. "Potatoes are useless."

"Well, sort of the opposite of that," said Honeydew. "'Cause, see—"

"I think we all got the point, Honeydew, thank you," said Kirin. "Strife, was there anything _else_ you had for us? I'm sorry we got sidetracked on this potato stuff. Hopefully you and Honeydew can discuss it outside of this meeting."

Strife managed to compose himself, turning away from Honeydew and pretending he wasn't in the room.

"Yeah, right. Sure." He looked over his notes, which were not sparse. "Well, the new line of atomic disassemblers hit shelves last week. . . ."

* * *

 

Strife managed to get through the rest of the meeting without killing anyone, but it was by a narrow margin. He left as quickly as he could afterwards, fraying at the edges. If Ridge had said one single word to him, Strife would undoubtedly have decked him right in his smug mouth. Perhaps Ridge was wise to this, which was why he didn't say anything.

However, as Strife hurried down the corridor to the elevator, somebody did accost him.

"Oy," said Honeydew, stumping along breathlessly on his short little legs. "Er, could I have a word with you?"

"If it's about the goddamn potatoes—"

"No, it . . . it ain't about that."

They reached the elevator. Strife tapped his keycard on the reader and the doors opened immediately. The two of them stepped in, and Strife tapped his card again and pressed the button for the ground floor.

"You got 'til the elevator stops," Strife told Honeydew.

"Er, well, all right," said Honeydew. He scratched his beard. "Er, might be a bit uncomfortable, but . . . you were, sort of, friends with ol' Xephos, right?"

Five floors went by in silence. Strife remembered how to breathe.

"Wouldn't call it that, exactly," he said, his voice tight.

"Right," said Honeydew. "But, er . . . well, it's just, er . . . it's comin' up on a year, since . . . yeah. You know. And—and I thought, right, it'd be nice to just, like, maybe . . . have a couple drinks. Or somethin'. Pour one out for 'im, kind of a thing. Didn't hardly nobody else like him, and I'm not sure _I_ liked him, but at least I've got the class to, like, _remember_ him. Which fuckin' nobody else in this place does, pardonin' my language."

Strife looked down at the little man as though seeing him for the first time. He was nervy, scratching his beard, his piggy eyes darting—but he seemed sincere, a rare sight around YogLabs. Honeydew, Strife concluded, was in the unfortunate position of being a genuinely _decent fellow._

"I'll uh . . . I'll think about it," Strife said, returning his eyes to the elevator door. "Pencil you in for—what, night of the twenty-seventh?"

"Yep," said Honeydew, nodding somberly. He glanced up at Strife. "Good memory you've got on you."

"Yeah, well," Strife said. The folder with his notes in it crinkled in his clenching fist. "Some things you just don't forget."


	16. Chapter 15

It had taken three weeks, but Nano had survived until her doctor's appointment.

Panda was sitting with her in the examination room now, waiting for the doctor to arrive after completing a truly monumental amount of intake paperwork. He was perched on the rolling stool in front of the computer, which he'd probably have to give up whenever the doctor arrived. Still, there was only one other chair in the room, and neither one of them wanted to sit on the exam table.

"Y'know," Nano said, "I've never thought to ask, but is your—your um—"

"Endocrinologist?" Panda guessed.

"Yeah, that. Do they specialize in Powered people, too?"

Panda made a face. "I wouldn't say _specialize._ He's good, though. I guess. All endos are fucking annoying, but at least he knows what he's doing most of the time."

Nano nodded. "Right," she said.

There was a somewhat awkward silence.

"It always takes forever for them to come in," Panda said. "I've got no idea what takes them so long. Like, what're they doing? We've only had this appointment slot for what, like, a month?"

"Nearly," said Nano. "It probably comes down to paperwork. It always comes down to paperwork."

"Yeah, I guess. But seriously, it's _every time._ I've never been to an appointment where it hasn't taken, like, fifteen minutes."

Nano nodded. She was looking rather harried, uncomfortable. She sat in silence for a few minutes, then leaned back and sighed.

"I'm not even sure I should be here, to be honest with you," she said. "I've been fine ever since the last one. Thing. You know."

"Yeah, but . . . y'know, one time is a coincidence, twice is a pattern," Panda said. "It's better to get it looked at _before_ it gets worse instead of after. Even if it's nothing."

Nano snorted. "Awfully expensive nothing."

"It's worth it," said Panda. "Trust me. As somebody with an incredibly fucking expensive disease, I think it's totally legitimate to bribe death."

_"Bribe death,_ that's good, I like that," said Nano, cracking a smile for the first time since they'd set out from home. "But I don't think I'm dying."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, you're probably not, but it's best to check, right?"

"Yeah, probably," she sighed.

Panda fidgeted for a moment, then said, "If it _is_ something serious. Will you—are you going to tell the others? It's not that I _mind_ keeping it a secret, it's just . . . I dunno, I think it'd be better. And definitely if it's _not_ serious."

"If it's not serious, I'll spill every bean I've got," Nano said.

"Okay, good, because . . . everybody's still pretty worried about you," said Panda.

"I know," she said. "And I'm sure they'll be _monstrously_ displeased with me when they find out I've been keeping secrets, but hell with it, it's too late now."

"But if it _is_ serious—"

Panda didn't get to finish his thought, because there was a quick knock at the door.

"Yes?" Nano called, sitting up straight.

The door opened and an older woman bustled in, fat and dark-skinned with piercing eyes and a friendly face. She shut the door behind her and raised her eyebrows.

"Miss Richards?" she inquired of Nano.

"Yes," said Nano. "This is John, he's my, er, medibuddy."

"Okay, great," said the doctor. She crossed to Nano and stuck out a hand. "I'm Dr. Fischer."

Nano shook her hand, and then Dr. Fischer shook Panda's hand, too. Her grip was tight, her skin papery. Panda ceded the stool to her and went to lean up against the wall next to Nano.

"Now," said Dr. Fischer, settling into her stool and fixing Nano with her piercing gaze. "What can I do for you?"

Haltingly at first, Nano explained the problem, including some facets that Panda hadn't known before. There was the internal bleeding, of course, but more recently it seemed other symptoms had cropped up, including the steady bleaching of the insides of all her clothes. Nano's voice barely shook as she described it all, and Dr. Fischer listened closely, nodding along and never interrupting.

"O- _kay,"_ she said, when Nano had finished her explanation. "I'm going to ask some questions now, if that's all right. I promise they're all to help me understand what's going on. Is that all right?"

"Of course," said Nano.

"Okay, so. Let's start with the obvious: are you Powered?"

"I am," said Nano. "Acidiferous mucogen. It . . . might have something to do with the clothes bleaching."

"Right, gotcha," said Dr. Fischer. She made a note on the computer. "Okay, and have you had any tests done so far? For things like ulcers, for example."

"Nothing," said Nano.

"Right, so that's probably a good place to start," said Dr. Fischer.

The questions went on for another five minutes or so, Dr. Fischer taking notes and Nano slowly seeming to relax into her role as patient. Dr. Fischer performed a quick physical, listening to Nano's heartbeat and breathing, and pressed on various parts of her abdomen for a minute or so. Panda stood quietly, doing his best not to fidget. Finally, Dr. Fischer took a quick read-through of her notes and turned to face Nano.

"Okay, Miss Richards, here's my idea," she said. "Since you mentioned the clothes bleaching, I think it's a good idea to run a DNA test and really get a handle on what your Powers are doing. I'll admit, I've never worked with a mucogen before, but congenital Powers have a nasty habit of hitting a kind of . . . puberty, and you're right about the right age for that to happen. It's totally possible that this has nothing to do with your Powers and they're just reacting to something else, but it never hurts to have a good handle on what's going on with your genes."

"Right," said Nano. "I guess that's . . . reasonable."

"Good. In the mean time, I think we should look for more standard causes. I'll write you a referral to a lab and have them run some standard blood tests and a test for ulcers. That one's a breath test, basically you just blow into a bag and you're done. For the blood tests, we'll check your clotting factors, liver function, and overall blood chemistry. Since you said it wasn't a _lot_ of blood and it hasn't happened in—three weeks?"

"Three weeks," Nano confirmed.

"Right. Because of that, I don't think it's anything particularly urgent, so we'll start off with those tests, and if nothing comes up, we may have to do something more invasive. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Very," said Nano. "That sounds—fantastic, actually. Um. Thank you."

"It's my job," Dr. Fischer said mildly. "Any questions for me?"

"Well, yes, sort of," said Nano, fidgeting. "How . . . how much is all of this going to cost?"

Dr. Fischer winced. "That's the cloud on the silver lining. The blood tests are pretty reasonable—even without insurance, they tend to keep under a hundred dollars—but the DNA testing is expensive. Usually around five hundred for Powered gene diagnosis."

"Okay," said Nano, sounding a little frail. "Okay, that's . . . that's not so bad."

"I know it's hard to take a hit to the wallet like that, but I'm pretty sure it's worth it," said Dr. Fischer. "I'll print you out a referral, and you just take it down to the lab and they'll do all the tests. Do you know Sunrise Diagnostics?"

Nano made a surprised noise and put a hand over her mouth.

"Um, yes," she said. "Yes, actually, I—I just had a friend of mine apply for a job there last week. I . . . wrote their letter of recommendation, actually."

"Great, so you're familiar with it," said Dr. Fischer. "They're good folks, they'll get you taken care of. If you two can wait here for just a minute, I'll go print you that referral, and then you can head out. We'll bill you in the mail, if that's okay."

"That should be fine, thank you," said Nano.

Dr. Fischer left, and she slumped in her chair.

"Hey, six hundred bucks isn't so bad," Panda said. "And it's just, like, a one-time thing, so it's not a _huge_ deal."

"Yeah," said Nano. She rubbed her face and shook her head. "Just . . . _God,_ how do you _put up_ with this? It's exhausting."

Panda shrugged. "Well, when it's a choice between doctor's appointments and needles and tests or _dying,_ you kind of tend to pick the first option."

She snorted. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fair." She took a deep breath and straightened up. "Thanks for being here, Panda."

"I didn't really do much, but you're welcome."

"It's the thought that counts," she said.

After a few more minutes, Dr. Fischer came back with the paperwork and sent the two of them on their way. They chatted on the way home about nothing in particular, although there was a certain amount of relief evident in Nano's ease.

Traffic was starting to get bad, since it was getting on towards rush hour, but they made it home without getting stuck anywhere for too long. Panda did have to fish some chewy candy out of his bag to keep his blood sugar from crashing, but there was no urgency in it. Nano bid Panda farewell at the door and went back to her own room. He himself went into the lefthand side and shut the door quietly behind him.

Nilesy was standing alone in the middle of the living room, his head to one side, his face blank. He was staring down at Lyndon as the cat lapped placidly at his water bowl. He was too still, his breathing shallow and slow. His left hand was opening and closing at his side. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. Something coiled up in Panda's stomach like a spring.

"Niles?" he said.

Nilesy jumped like he'd been shocked, spun on his heel and caught himself on the wall. He giggled nervously and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Oh, God," he said, turning his hand over to rest his knuckles against his mouth. "Scared the _life_ out of me. How—how long've you been there, then?"

"I just came in the door, Niles," he said quietly.

"Did—did you? Ahah, well, then, must've—must not've heard you, then. Ahah. Right! Okay, well, if—if anybody needs me, I'll, er, I'll just be in my room."

"I was going to put on a film or something," Panda mentioned, faint hope in his voice. "If you wanted to stay."

"Oh?" said Nilesy. He was sweating. The smile on his face was strained. "Ah, well, if—I s'pose I could . . . hang about." He glanced back at the corridor and swallowed. "For a bit."

"You don't have to," said Panda. "Just thought I'd offer."

"Er, okay, well—maybe in a . . . an hour, or so?" said Nilesy. "Just, I've got—things. You know."

"All right," said Panda. "You know where to find me."

"Yeah," said Nilesy, thin and too bright and looking like he was about to shatter. He scurried off to his room without saying anything else.

Panda heaved a sigh and dropped himself onto the couch, rubbing his forehead. There were things he had to be doing, but he was overcome by his own inertia, unable to get up off the couch now that he was on it. He ought to be checking his blood sugar—judging by this wave of fatigue, he was probably out of range one way or another—or drinking water, or going somewhere or doing _something_ other than just sitting here feeling odd and empty and tired. Lyndon came up and leaned hard against his leg and smacked him in the calf with his tail.

"Hey buddy," Panda said. He reached down to scratch Lyndon behind the ears, but Lyndon ducked his hand and only allowed him to touch the base of his tail. Panda managed a smile and continued petting whatever part of the cat was presented to him. Eventually Lyndon flopped over on the floor and rolled onto his back, watching Panda with huge round eyes.

"Oh, is it _this_ game," said Panda. He slipped off the sofa and knelt on the floor, then carefully reached out to pet Lyndon's belly. True to form, Lyndon tried to grab his hand with claws and teeth. Panda yanked his hand back blurring-quick and Lyndon snatched at empty air.

"Hah!" Panda crowed. "Too slow!"

Lyndon wriggled across the floor on his side, mashed his face against Panda's knee, and started purring loudly.

"You know he'sh never going to be able to catch you, right?"

Panda looked over his shoulder. Zylus was leaning on the back of the couch, smirking. He was dressed for work, although his bowtie was askew. He looked like he hadn't slept, or at least hadn't slept well.

"Maybe someday he will," said Panda. "I might let him, if I feel like it."

"Fashe it, you jusht do it becaushe you alwaysh win," said Zylus.

"You're saying that like I don't always win everything else, too."

"Oh, well no _wonder_ you might conshider letting him catch you. Very big of you."

Panda scowled. "Was that a short joke?"

"I think it wash average length," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Oh _hah-_ hah, well done. Haven't you got places to be?"

"If you're sho deshperate to get rid of me."

"I am _now._ You and your average-length jokes."

Zylus grinned. "I'll shee you later, shpeedy. Go check your sugar."

"Fuck off," Panda said amiably. He did, however, get up off the floor and head for the kitchen, where he was fairly certain he'd left Hadaly. Before he got very far, though, he paused, biting his lip.

Behind him, Zylus sighed.

"Go ahead," he said gently.

"Can I ask you a stupid question?" Panda said, speaking too quickly. He turned to look at Zylus, who hadn't moved from the couch.

Zylus gestured an invitation to him, perhaps indicating that he'd already acquiesced to that particular request.

Panda fidgeted, looking away. "I mean, can't you—have I got to say it out loud?"

"You're going about eight hundred milesh an hour in there right now," Zylus said, "sho yesh, unfortunately, if you want me to get anything other than unintelligible dishtressh."

"Oh. Right. Um. Just—is Nilesy okay?"

Zylus shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He nodded, although his expression made it look more like an understanding than an answer.

"I can't tell you what'sh going on with him," Zylus said, his voice heavy, "becaushe it'sh not my bushinessh and I really shouldn't know. But he'sh not . . . it ishn't . . . I don't think we have to worry about him."

"You're _sure_ about that?" Panda pressed. "Because, like, it's been like this for weeks and he's not gotten any better—"

"Panda, lishten, I'm sure," said Zylus, cutting him off. "I know he'sh . . . _dishconsherting,_ but honeshtly, jusht becaushe he'sh gotten crazier doeshn't mean he'sh more dangeroush."

"Nobody said—I didn't say that!"

Zylus raised an eyebrow at him. Panda flushed and shrugged, clenching his teeth.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I know. Crazy doesn't equal dangerous."

"And now we both have to put money in the jar," said Zylus, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Sherioushly, shpeedy. It'sh okay. He'll be all right. Jusht . . . give him hish shpashe, and don't push him about it."

"Right," Panda sighed. "Um. Thanks."

Zylus shrugged, turning away. "Any time," he said. "Shee you after work, if you're shtill up then."

"'Kay. Have a good shift."

"I'll try," said Zylus. He tossed a lazy salute at Panda and headed out into the blazing afternoon.

* * *

 

About an hour later, Panda mustered up his energy and knocked on Lomadia's door. It was a little easier to do things now that he'd gotten his blood sugar back in range.

"What?" Lomadia said, muffled and mumbling.

"It's me," he said. "Can I come in for a bit?"

There was some grumbling and shuffling, and then she said, "Okay."

Panda slipped in and shut the door behind him. Lomadia's room was dark and warm and sleepy, so much so that he wondered how she ever managed to get out of bed. Just breathing the air in here made him want to yawn. She herself was sitting up in bed, a sheet thrown haphazardly over her shoulder to cover her chest. She was blinking—well, owlishly—and frowning at him.

"Um," he said. "Look, um . . . before you head off for work, could you—d'you mind sort of . . . helping out with Nilesy? A bit? Just, you know how he's been, and he's being that way today, too, and I figure it'll be easier to get him to chill out a bit if it's both of us."

"I've got to go to work _pretty_ soon," said Lomadia.

"Well, yeah, but—y'know, just for a bit," said Panda. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it'd help. Besides, you've got _loads_ more experience with him being—being. . . ."

"Weird?" said Lomadia.

"Sure, yeah, let's go with that," said Panda, rubbing his arm. "And it always works better when you do it. I just . . . fuck things up, really."

"Not really," said Lomadia.

"Last time I tried to cheer him up, it ended with him face-down in the fucking tub," Panda snapped.

"That happens all the time no matter _what_ anybody does," said Lomadia.

"Look, will you help or not?"

"I don't know why you're even asking," she said. "Maybe he just doesn't want to feel better yet."

"It's been _weeks,_ Lom! And he's—and I'm—"

Panda broke off, looking away and biting his lip.

"You're what?" said Lomadia.

"I'm . . . scared," he admitted, his voice so quiet it cracked. "I'm scared of him."

"It's just Nilesy," said Lomadia. "You don't have to be scared."

"You don't understand," he said. "You don't—I still—"

He struggled to find the words. She didn't interrupt him.

"That . . . time," he said at last. "When—when we . . . broke Lalna. And he—I tried to stop him and he. . . . I mean most days I don't even think about it, it doesn't even register as a fucking blip, but when he gets like this, I just. . . . There's something else _in_ there, Lom, and it was going to _kill_ me, and sometimes Niles gets—gets _thin_ at the edges and I can see it. It's _not_ just Nilesy. It's never been _just_ Nilesy."

She frowned at him. "I guess. He says there's lots of him. Only they're all him. I think. It's not that the other one doesn't like us or anything. It's still Nilesy, mostly, just different. I dunno, it's confusing, I don't really try to understand it."

"So you're not . . . worried?" Panda asked. "About . . . y'know. Him."

"It's only a _man-if-ess-tation_ of his brain stuff," Lomadia said, sounding the word out in that just-learned way of hers. "He just doesn't like to talk about it. Which I guess isn't really okay, but it's been that way forever."

"Yeah, I guess," said Panda. "But . . . look, will you just come be there? Because we both know he's not going to come out on his own, I think he's made _that_ pretty obvious, but he really shouldn't be alone all the time. It's not good for him."

Lomadia thought about it, then shrugged. "Okay," she said. "But I've got to go to work in like an hour."

"I know," said Panda. "Thanks, Lom. D'you want me to go get him while you get dressed?"

"Oh," said Lomadia, looking down at herself. "Right. Yeah, okay."

"Thanks again, Lom," said Panda, and slipped back out of her room.

Just down the corridor, he rapped on Nilesy's door, wondering if Nilesy had heard the conversation in Lomadia's room. There really wasn't that much space between the two rooms, and Panda hadn't exactly been whispering.

The door cracked open and Nilesy peered out at him. The lights were out in his room. He'd taken his hair out from its ponytail and it was framing his face in strings.

"Yes, dear?" he said, sounding rather put-upon.

"I was just about to start the film," said Panda, cocking a thumb at the main room. "Lom said she wants to watch for the first bit, at least until she's got to go to work. We'd love if you'd join us."

"Ah," said Nilesy. "Ah, right, well. Talked about this, have you? The two of you."

"I just invited her, that's all."

"It's no fair, the two of you ganging up on me like this," Nilesy said, but it didn't sound like a joke this time.

"We're not ganging up on you, Niles, we just want to spend some time with you," said Panda. "You're always either in your room or at work and we hardly ever see you anymore."

"Yes, well," Nilesy said. "Work. Right. I've got work tonight. Can't really do a film, haven't got the time. Sorry, hope you and Lom enjoy it."

"Nilesy, please," Panda said quietly, putting his hand flat on the door before Nilesy could close it on him. "We're worried about you. Can't you take the night off? Or just spare a couple of _minutes?"_

"I really can't, dear," Nilesy said, his voice thin and taut. "You know how work is, ahah, take one too many days off and suddenly you've got nothing _but_ days off."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind, Niles, they give you days off all the time!" said Panda.

"That's rather the point, dear."

"Look, honestly—where do you even work?"

Nilesy grinned, quite suddenly, and leaned his head on the doorframe. All the hairs on the back of Panda's neck stood up.

"Panda darling, if I've told you once I've told you a hundred times," he said sweetly. "It's none of your fucking business."

"Oh," Panda said, his throat locking up. He took a half-step back, his heart pounding.

The smile slid off Nilesy's face, and for just an instant there was an expression of pure, unguarded fear. He leaned back from the door, his eyes darting.

"Sorry," he said, his voice trembling. "Sorry, I—"

"Niles, no, it's okay," Panda said hurriedly. He reached in and touched Nilesy's shoulder, putting just a little more force behind the hand holding the door open. "Really, it's fine. Just . . . come out from there. For a bit. You'll feel better for it."

Nilesy hesitated. "Has, er," he said, fidgeting, "has Zylus gone on to work then?"

"Yeah, like an hour ago," said Panda. "Why?"

"No reason! No reason. Just, y'know, I've got—ahahah—I've got things." He gestured vaguely to his own head. "Wouldn't want to make things difficult for him."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind, Niles. It's not like it makes a huge difference for him, whether you're in your room or not."

There was a clicking of talons on hardwood, and Lomadia stepped up behind Panda, looming.

"Hi," she said. "I thought there was going to be a film."

"There is," said Panda. "Or something shorter, maybe? Nilesy's got work, so it can't take _too_ long."

"Oh," said Lomadia. She shrugged. "Okay. Nilesy, you can come pick something out."

He heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes.

"All _right,"_ he said. "If I must."

With that, he pulled the door open and headed off for the front room, shaking his head. Panda turned to Lomadia.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome," she said, and followed after Nilesy.


	17. Chapter 16

Nilesy had not been sleeping well.

It had been an odd mixture of insomnia and nightmares, neither preferable and each always followed by wishes for the other. He'd been stringently sleeping alone, terrified of sleepwalking or, worse, waking up as someone else.

He'd put the mask on once. Just once, but the horror of it had not left his bones yet. It had felt _good._ All that time steeping in the darkness under his bed had put the power back in the thing. He should have known when it had so effortlessly snapped him out of that flashback a month ago. He should be throwing it away, before the temptation grew too strong, before he used it as an excuse to do something inexcusable.

He did not throw it away.

After a few weeks, though, the springs in him started to unwind. The nightmares declined in frequency, and they were all standard fare, anyway. There had been no more dreams about Zylus, which was slowly working its way around to being a relief. Through the constant erosion of Panda and Lomadia's efforts, he was coaxed out of his room and coerced into actually enjoying things again. It felt dishonest, at first, but the more often he did it the better he liked it. He still couldn't bring himself to be in the same room as Zylus for any length of time, but eventually it was more out of awkwardness than fear. Zylus, for his part, tended to avoid Nilesy just as thoroughly, unless he was drunk.

Work was Nilesy's one true outlet, the space where he could be as immoral and conniving as he wanted and no one would mind. His voice turned to silver on his tongue, and if it wasn't quite _his_ voice, that hardly mattered. Better to let that other self decompress a little at a time in puffs of steam through his teeth. Better that he not rupture something important and become unable to put the genie back in the bottle.

He tended to come home late, in the quiet hours of the morning, when Lomadia was still at work and just about everyone else was asleep. Every so often he'd run into Panda, driven out of bed by the antics of his blood sugar, but for the most part he was free to slip in at four in the morning and go straight to bed.

About three weeks after the fateful dream, he arrived home and found himself, for once, in a good mood. He'd sat and watched an episode of a spectacularly stupid sci-fi show with Panda and Lomadia before heading out for work, and the warmth of their touches was still in his bones. Work, too, had been simple and easy, leaving him feeling more accomplished than guilty. He scavenged something out of the fridge, took a quick shower, and burrowed into his bed. He was asleep in moments, faint dreams of intimacy wisping like steam through his head.

* * *

 

Nilesy woke to the feeling of someone straddling him, settling their knees on either side of his ribs and sitting on his hips. A warm hand touched his throat, and then wrapped around it, gentle and careful. He drew a slow breath while his body went soft and floaty, while his mind started to sink back into the misty distance. He opened his eyes, just a crack, a smile playing over his lips.

And his stomach dropped, and his spine went stiff, because looking down at him in the darkness was Zylus.

"No—" he croaked, his heart leaping.

Zylus squeezed his throat, just enough to wash the words out of him with a flood of warmth.

"Shh," he murmured. His eyes were bright, his face unreadable. "No talking in your shleep."

The warmth was drowning him, but his thoughts were still scrambling to get themselves together, to make sense of this somehow. It wasn't working.

"You're dreaming, Liam," Zylus told him gently. "In a few minutesh you'll wake up. But it'sh a nishe dream, ishn't it? Sho jusht enjoy it for now."

"No," Nilesy said again, because he didn't _feel_ like he was dreaming, he felt like Zylus was sitting on his hips and choking him _just_ right and the warmth was getting into his blood and it didn't make any _sense._

"Dreamsh don't make shenshe," said Zylus. "Here. I'll prove it to you. _Real_ Zylush would never do thish."

And he leaned in and kissed Nilesy, right on the lips, pinching his thumb and forefinger together at just the right place to pin shut the carotid arteries and cut off the blood flow to Nilesy's brain, and Nilesy's eyes rolled back in his head and his mind plunged into the warm fog and just like that he was lost. It no longer mattered if he was dreaming or not, so long as he didn't wake up. Besides, it was vanishingly unlikely that Zylus was anywhere _near_ that good of a kisser in real life.

Zylus sat back, regarding him with a clinical curiosity.

"Good," he said. "Can you anshwer three queshtionsh, Liam? Jusht three, then you can have whatever you want."

Nilesy nodded. He couldn't speak, not because of the hand around his throat but because of the incredible sluggish warmth flooding his veins and drowning his brain. There was some part of him clamoring to be heard, down in the pit of his stomach, and its thrashings were making him nauseous, but he couldn't possibly have paid it any mind.

"Queshtion one," said Zylus. "How sure are you that Xephosh ish dead?"

The hand on his throat loosened, and he sucked down a deep and trembling breath as oxygen rushed to his brain.

"Sure," he said, his lips numb. "Too many bits to put himself back together. Took him a week to grow back a finger." He smiled, shifting in his bed. "I'm sure."

The hand squeezed his throat again, and he tipped his head back with a quiet moan.

"Very good," said Zylus. "Two: could you kill the othersh like that?"

Again the blood was allowed to flow back to his head, and the back-and-forth of it was doing things to him that, if this were real, he would be ashamed to even _think_ about in front of Zylus. It took him a moment to get his words together, because they were scattered amongst the mist in his mind, fluttering like glass-winged insects through the empty spaces of him.

"Maybe," he murmured. "Blood's . . . hard. Doesn't listen well. Only really works when I'm angry. And—ahahah—and only if nobody's looking. Not s'posed to kill anyone else." The clamoring thing in his stomach was souring him, and as a concession to it, he asked, "Why?"

Zylus kissed him again, and all his doubts were washed out in the brilliant light of the fireworks that went off under his skin.

"Don't ashk queshtionsh, Liam," Zylus admonished, his lips still brushing Nilesy's. His hand squeezed again, and Nilesy's back arched, his hands reached up and grabbed Zylus's wrist. The sound that came out of his mouth was probably illegal in several countries.

"Lasht queshtion," said Zylus. "Who are Gozencrantsh and Ruildenshtern?"

Confusion stirred the mists of Nilesy's mind, leaving them turbulent. He'd never so much as heard the names before—and if he couldn't answer, what then? Did this all stop? Did he wake up in bed alone and cold and aching and never able to look Zylus in the face again?

"Shh," Zylus murmured. "That'sh good enough. You did good, Liam. Now jusht relaxsh. Thish will be over shoon."

A second hand joined the first around his throat, and they both squeezed, _hard,_ hard enough that he could barely breathe, and his head was filling up with roaring and vapor, and the mist was thickening until he couldn't see through it, and in desperation he tapped Zylus's wrist twice, his fingers going numb. The grip around his throat did not loosen. He clutched Zylus's wrists, trying to pull him off, struggling desperately as his consciousness started to fade, panic scrabbling through his chest.

"I'm shorry," Zylus whispered, his voice heavy with horror. "Chrisht, I'm shorry, I'm shorry, I'm shorry. . . ."

His voice faded into roaring, and the strength drained from Nilesy's body, and the night crept in warm and dark and swallowed him whole.

* * *

 

Nilesy woke in his own bed with a splitting headache and a faint twinge between his legs. Shaking and dizzy, he reached up and touched his throat, where he could feel the phantom touch of two strong hands. On unsteady legs, he got out of bed and tottered to the bathroom.

There were no marks on his neck, no stains of kisses printed on his lips—but his throat was sore, and his hands were aching, and there were burst blood vessels in his eyes. He washed his face with cold water, the heat of the desert night making him feel feverish, though there was a shivering in the core of him that threatened to spread out through his limbs.

Nilesy looked up at himself in the mirror. His face was drawn, pale, the green of his irises stark in contrast to the bloodshot whites around them.

"Dreaming," he muttered to himself. "Fuck is wrong with you. Got to stop with these crazy fucking dreams, Nilesy."

His hands clenched on the edge of the sink, and he looked down at them. The shaking was spreading like an earthquake—it was in his chest now, and he could feel it destabilizing his knees, sending little foreshocks rolling out through his arms.

"Losing your fucking mind," he said, and though he meant it as a joke between himself and his reflection, he could not hide the fear in his voice.

* * *

 

He got himself up and out of bed before noon, his fear of being left alone with anyone stronger than his desire to simply be left alone. He went and fed Lyndon, his shoulders tight and his head aching. He could still feel the hands around his neck, constricting his breath and leaving him dizzy. The TV was on, turned to the morning news, and Nano, Rythian, and Lalna were sitting about watching it. The other three were at the kitchen table, Lomadia and Panda chatting amiably while Zylus worked his way through a coffee and a sudoku.

"Morning, Niles," Panda said, as Nilesy came in and fed Lyndon. "You're up early."

Nilesy shrugged. "Yeah, well," he said. He couldn't think of anything to add, so he didn't try. His face prickled under Panda's attention. He went rummaging through the refrigerator just to give his hands something to do.

Because there were people watching him, he made himself toast and tea, even though he was sick to his stomach. Even though Zylus was there, he sat at the kitchen table, because it felt less suspect than hiding amongst the others around the TV. He carried some faint hope that maybe no one would notice anything was wrong, or at least that anything was wronger than usual.

Panda and Lomadia seemed content to carry on their conversation without trying too hard to include him, and Zylus was wrapped up in his sudoku. He was taking intermittent sips of his coffee, frowning at the puzzle on the table. There were heavy bags under his eyes and his skin was sallow, his hair mussed. Pale, creamy liquid clung to his lips at every sip, and his tongue would dart out to wipe it away. His hands were steady and strong on his pencil, the handle of his mug, and there was something on his wrists, under the bracelets—

"Nileshy?" Zylus said, looking up at him and quirking an eyebrow.

Nilesy dropped his eyes and gulped. How much had come out of his head? How much of that sick and treacherous dream had slipped out where Zylus could see it? His hands started shaking, his heart pounding.

"S-sorry," he stammered. "Just—zoned out a bit there, ahah."

"Right," Zylus said flatly. He turned his eyes back to his sudoku puzzle, shaking his head.

Nilesy barely made it two more minutes before the tension became too much and he had to run off, leaving his toast and tea almost untouched. It only occurred to him once he was back in the safety of his room that he would have made a much less suspicious picture if he'd just taken the damn things with him. He still couldn't breathe. His face was prickling.

Shaking and sick, he sank to the floor and put his back against one of the legs of his bed. He drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them, tangling his fingers in his hair.

"It wasn't _real,"_ he muttered to himself. "It wasn't fucking _real,_ Nilesy, get ahold of yourself. Christ's sake."

But it still _felt_ real, felt more like a memory than a dream, or at least more like a flashback. The thought percolated through his mind, changing the color of it, casting all this madness in a new light.

Plenty of things _felt_ real. Plenty of them hadn't happened exactly the way he remembered, either, especially not when something triggered that violent and blinding recollection. One minute he could be lying in bed in Las Vegas and in the blink of an eye he was back on Fair Isle, smelling antiseptic and brine with the linoleum floors cold beneath his feet, Xephos's iron hand on his arm, the bitter taste of medication lingering on the back of his tongue. Was it so far-fetched to think his mind might conjure more pleasant things, hands and lips and quiet voices, only to snatch them away soured and frightful before their conclusion? There was more than one person in his head, and one of them halfway defined himself by masks.

Also, Zylus had never, would never, call him _Liam._ Some lines were simply uncrossable.

The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed. His mind was more than capable of playing cruel tricks on him, and perhaps the old ones had gotten stale. It was far more likely, at least, than there being any reality to the events of the night before.

There hadn't been any bruises on Zylus's wrists. It had been a trick of the light, or of his mind. There hadn't been any dark smudges underneath the twin bracelets, shadows of fingers wrapped around the pale skin. It hadn't happened. It wasn't real. It was only his own traitorous mind carving gulfs between him and the people who loved him. That, at least, was a behavior he was familiar with. That, at least, made sense.

Perhaps he hadn't been doing enough to appease the beast. Perhaps the little puffs of steam that hissed through his teeth at work were not enough to relieve the pressure, and he was cracking from the strain. Slowly, he lifted his head and turned to look under his bed. The lights were off, and it was dark under there, the box pushed far back and hidden behind myriad other junk. There wasn't any point in hiding it, of course, since everyone knew he had it now, but it would have felt wrong to leave it so close to the light. It was a deep thing, an abyssal thing, and it did not belong where the light could touch it.

Perhaps it had been in the dark for too long. Perhaps it was time to take it out for a bit of a walk. Just a brief one, maybe after work, maybe _during_ work, when people were already so trusting of him, when the silver on his tongue lured them off to follow, and how many dark alleys he could lead them through, and how much _noise_ there was everywhere around to cover the sound of their helpless struggling—

There was a knock on the door. Nilesy snatched his hand back from where it had crept under the bed.

"Yes?" he said, and his voice only shook a little.

The door cracked open and Lomadia stuck her head in.

"Hi," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, dear," he said, because his brain was too addled to think of a reason that would keep her out. She crossed the room and sat down next to him on the floor. Automatically, he leaned against her, as though gravitationally pulled, and she put an arm around his shoulders. For some time, there was quiet between them, warm and soft and dim. Lyndon wandered in and hopped up on the bed without acknowledging either of them.

"Was there . . . something you needed, dear?" Nilesy asked at last.

"Not really," Lomadia said, shrugging her wings. "Just you ran off and you looked really upset and you didn't finish your breakfast. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Because it would be really bad if you _and_ Nano were _both_ sick."

"I'm—" _fine,_ he wanted to say, but by her own admission that would be a dead giveaway that he wasn't. "I'm all right."

Lomadia nodded. "Okay," she said. "D'you want to come stay with me while I sleep? You won't keep me awake, and even if you do, I won't mind."

"No, that's—that's all right, dear, I think I'll pass," he said. God forbid he should have one of these new nightmares with someone else in the room. He could only imagine their horror and disgust.

"You're sure?" Lomadia asked, peering at him. "We don't have to do anything. I just miss being with you. And I always leave for work before you do, so it's not like you'll wake me up."

"No, no, I'd better stay up and about," Nilesy said lightly. "Anyway, it's Nano's turn with you, I wouldn't want to encroach."

Lomadia made a face. "She won't mind. She knows it's been ages since you've actually spent any time with me."

"Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow I'm all yours. Scout's honor."

"Well . . . okay." She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "But you've got to stick to it, because I miss you."

"I know, dear," he said.

 _I miss me, too,_ he did not say.

* * *

 

When next he dreamed, he dreamed of the fire.

He was still stinging from the fight with Cinead and Rhona, the smell of brine clinging to him after an hour spent floating on the choppy gray sea. It was a gray day, too, raining and windy. The ground squelched under his feet, the mud pressing up cold through the holes in his shoes. His hair was plastered to his head, his fingers blue and aching, his teeth chattering. His breath misted in front of him, pale and opaque as the thoughts swirling in his head, the guilt in his stomach.

He hadn't _meant_ to cheat. It wasn't _cheating,_ not really, he'd just . . . neglected to tell either of them that he was also involved with the other. He kept them separate because—well, because they were both ridiculously jealous people, and he didn't want to ruin their friendship with each other by making them feel they had to _compete._ Likewise, it wouldn't have been fair to pick one of them, when they both loved him and wanted him and he wanted and loved both of them. Cinead kissed like an angel and Rhona's hands were the sweetest thing his skin had ever felt and Cinead always knew what to say and Rhona never failed to make him laugh, and how could he possibly _choose?_

 _Greedy,_ they'd called him. _Selfish. Cruel. Cheater, liar, scum._ And Rhona in tears, and Cinead ready to beat him into the ground. The bruise on his cheek still throbbed, hot against the chilly air. He'd never _meant_ to hurt them. It made no sense, why they couldn't grasp that he loved them _both,_ that it _was_ love and not selfishness, not greed. That there had been no game, just an idiot lack of communication and a blind naivety.

He was determined to fix it, somehow. Of course neither of them would ever want to speak to him again, that was a given, and he'd already tried apologizing, but there had to be something he could do. At the very least he could gather up his belongings and leave, get out of their lives and not force them to endure him any longer. Sixteen was plenty old enough to get a job somewhere, especially since he looked at least a couple years older.

It was a two-mile trek over rain-slick hills to get back to the ramshackle cottage from the coast. He spotted the smoke when he was a mile off.

There was a huge pillar of it, _several_ huge pillars, twisted and tattered by the wind, black and greasy and billowing. He started running, slipping on the wet ground, skinning his hands and knees, panicked and breathless.

_No no no no no—_

He could smell smoke, acrid and sweet and bitter all at once, mingling with the thick smell of the mud and the moss and the rain. He could hear screaming. He ran and ran and ran, until his lungs were full of nettles and his ribs were cracking and his legs were all pins and shards.

The cottage was ablaze by the time he got there, engulfed. Brilliant orange flames licked through the windows, the doors; sparks rose like flocks of fireflies from the collapsing roof.

He could hear them screaming. Rhona and Cinead, Adrien, Lyall, Maggie—

_Lomadia Panda Zylus Nano Rythian Lalna—_

Tears blinded him, a cry tore his throat raw and bloody, he sprinted towards the cottage to get them out, get them _out_ get them _out,_ and the heat was blinding and he couldn't breathe, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him back, his hands were singed and he was choking on smoke—

_Do something do something do something—_

He thrashed, kicking out at the person who held him, screaming and crying, because he had to do _something,_ he had to _fix_ this, somehow, right now, because he could hear them _dying,_ begging for help amidst the roaring sputtering hissing flames, the rain falling all around him, the taste of the ocean bitter on the back of his tongue—

Nilesy squeezed his eyes shut and reached out with all the Power in him, catching up the rain, heaving the water from the sodden earth, until his skull was splitting with the pain and his heart was stuttering in his chest, until his whole body shook with the effort of it, poured it all on the hungry flames in the vain hope of satiating them—

* * *

 

He woke in his own bed, drenched in sweat and screaming. Panda was holding him—

_—blackened by the flames—_

—and murmuring consolations into his ear.

"It's all right, Niles," he said. "I'm here. You're all right. I'm here."

Nilesy clutched him with all the strength in his shaking hands and wept into his shoulder. He could still taste the acrid smoke on the back of his tongue, choking off his voice and half his air. In the darkness of his room, keeping his eyes open did nothing to drive back the flames, the lingering images of dream and memory.

_Adrien and Lyall, dead in each other's arms, charcoal skeletons and cracked flesh, Rhona crushed beneath a burnt-out timber, Cinead dying in agony on the floor—_

"Niles, Niles," Panda said, rocking him slowly. "It's okay. Shh, it's okay. You're here. You're all right. It's okay, I promise. It was a dream, lover, it was only a dream."

_Smoke and flame, cinders in the rain, Rythian and Lalna dead in each other's arms—_

_"Mask,"_ Nilesy gasped, inches away from shattering like a glass thrust into a furnace.

Panda froze, just for a moment, and Nilesy whimpered in pain and fear and helplessness.

"Okay," said Panda. He left Nilesy sitting up on the bed and ducked underneath, emerging moments later with the mask, and he slipped it on Nilesy's face—

And the fires burned out, the embers of memory went dark and cold, doused under a frigid gray sea. He breathed. He opened his eyes.

"Thank you, dear," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Panda just gathered him into his arms again and held him until he fell asleep.


	18. Chapter 17

Once Nilesy was well and thoroughly asleep, Panda tucked him back into bed and snuck back to his own room. There was a weakness in his limbs, a fog in his head that spoke of low blood sugar. He spent a few minutes searching for Hadaly before finally finding her underneath the discarded pile of yesterday's clothes (God only knew how she'd gotten there). He had to search another few minutes to find a fresh testing strip, even though the used ones littered his room like confetti. Sure enough, his blood sugar came out at a solid 60.

It was going to be another sleepless night. At least he'd gotten in a few hours before Nilesy had started screaming.

For some reason, it took him nearly five minutes to get himself a juice box. He wasn't thinking clearly, his vision blurred as though with exhaustion. When he did remember why he had the fridge open and got the juice box out, it took an unreasonable amount of force to stab the straw through, to the point that he ended up just peeling the box open with his fingernails and drinking straight out of it. His hands had gone all clumsy and sweaty, which only made the task more difficult.

Once the juice box was empty, though, he went right back to the fridge and scavenged a couple slices of ham and cheese, still shaky and unwell. Before he knew it, he'd eaten half a block of cheddar and an entire pack of sliced ham. By then he was lucid enough to see that he'd been trying to jab the straw through the thick cardboard of the juice box, instead of the foil circle intended for that purpose. He drank a glass of water for good measure (it was impossible _not_ to be dehydrated in the desert) and then headed back to his room, rubbing his eye and resigning himself to another three, four, five hours spent at attention while he waited for his blood sugar to spike.

He had his hand on his doorknob when a better thought occurred to him. He slipped into his room and collected Hadaly and a pinch of test strips, then went back across the corridor to Nilesy's room. He deposited the supplies on the desk and then slipped into the bed, touching Nilesy's shoulder as he did so.

Nilesy made a quiet purring noise and blinked himself awake, stirring sleepily. The mask had come slightly askew from being mushed against the pillow.

"It's me," Panda whispered to him.

"Mm," said Nilesy, and settled back down. He draped an arm over Panda's shoulders and kissed him briefly. Panda leaned into it, cuddling up to him. Absently, Nilesy touched the elastic band of Panda's eyepatch, just fingertips against cloth.

"Staying?" Nilesy inquired, cracking an eye open behind the mask.

"I dunno, am I?" Panda replied, nearly playful.

"If you like," said Nilesy.

"I _do_ like."

Nilesy smiled and kissed him again, then slipped a finger under the elastic band and tugged the eyepatch off. Panda shivered as the fresh air touched the skin underneath, while Nilesy hung the eyepatch from the bedpost. Ever so gently, Nilesy cupped Panda's cheek and kissed the scarred ruins of his left eye. Another shiver ran through Panda, rather more pleasant than the last. Nilesy subsided back onto his pillow, stroking Panda's cheek with his thumb. Panda closed his eye and touched his forehead to Nilesy's. The plastic of the mask was cool against his skin.

For a long time, there was only breath between them, no words, no movement.

"Which one?" Panda asked at last, his voice the softest of whispers.

Nilesy didn't answer. Panda opened his eye, checking to see if the other man had fallen asleep. Nilesy's eyes were open, though downcast, his face unreadable under the mask. Panda butted his forehead against Nilesy's again.

"Okay," he said.

At some point, the heat became overwhelming and Nilesy rolled onto his back. Panda snuggled up to him and laid his head on his chest, listening to the steady drumbeat of his heart. He tried to ignore the ropey, shiny feel of the scar tissue under his cheek. Nilesy toyed with the hair at the back of his neck, fingers warm and gentle.

"How's it sound?" he inquired.

"Mm, you're definitely still alive," Panda reported.

"Oh, good, I was worried for a bit there," Nilesy said. Panda could hear the smile in his voice. "You never know when it's going to cut off again."

"I'll just stay here, then," Panda said. "To keep an ear on it. Wouldn't want the silly old thing to break."

Nilesy's only response was to pinch Panda's ear, not hard. Eventually, though, he spoke, and his voice was soft and pained.

"The fire," he murmured. "It was the one with the fire."

Panda remained quiet, waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, Panda draped an arm around his waist and squeezed him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"I think—" Nilesy began, and cut himself off. He started again, quieter, more composed. "I think the measure of . . . of how crazy a dream is, is how hard it is to tell it wasn't real. And—most times, y'know, you wake up and you go, _no, that couldn't possibly have happened, the_ _sky was_ _plaid_ _and all my fucking teeth fell out._ And that's that. But—sometimes it's not like that. Sometimes it's more like . . . remembering. Sometimes it's Cinead and Rhona and Maggie and sometimes it's—"

There was a long, taut moment of silence.

"Sometimes it's you," Nilesy whispered.

Panda lifted his head, horrified. Nilesy was staring up at the ceiling, the mask heavy on his face.

"Jesus Christ," Panda said.

A little huff of laughter pushed through Nilesy's lips like a bubble through tar.

"And that's—no, honestly, I'm _glad_ for it," he said. "Because—ahahah—because that's how I know I was dreaming! Because you're all here, and _not_ dead, so it couldn't've happened. So I can tell it wasn't real. So it's not so crazy after all. But—but _God,_ Panda, I've been having some crazy fucking dreams lately."

"Like . . . like what?" Panda asked, dread creeping up through his stomach.

Nilesy's lips pinched together, his hands clenched, he swallowed. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth like a fishhook. He reached up and touched the mask, as though to make sure it was still there.

"I—" he said, and stopped himself again. "I'm not sure I want you to know."

"Well," said Panda, "if you ever decide you do, I'll listen."

Nilesy sighed, trailed his hand down to Panda's shoulder and rubbed his arm with his thumb.

"Thank you, dear," he murmured.

No more words passed between them that night.

* * *

 

Panda slept only fitfully, more concerned with keeping his blood sugar in range than with rest. A semi-sleepless night wouldn't kill him. The blood sugars absolutely would.

Eventually, he retreated to his own room, because he didn't want to keep waking Nilesy up by having to go to the bathroom as his blood sugar spiked. As he sat awake, bleary and annoyed, he fell to thinking about what Nilesy had said about dreams.

He had, Panda considered, never been the most _stable_ of people, never had the firmest grasp on reality as a whole. Panda had never pegged him as exactly _psychotic,_ in the most clinical definition of the word, but there were hardly any lines on Nilesy that weren't a little blurry. Things had been difficult. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he'd slipped some mental cog over the past few weeks and was now breaking down entirely.

If he was, it was almost certainly Panda's fault. It was hard to imagine anyone could go through such a screaming, bruising, thrashing flashback and come out of it intact.

Panda looked down at his hands, at the plasters and the pinpricks, the scabs and the scars. Maybe they had gotten bored with the taste of his own blood and were looking to be drenched in somebody else's. Certainly, if Nilesy killed anybody else, their blood would be on Panda's hands.

Morning rolled around, and with it came a wave of exhaustion and a gnawing hunger. Panda roused himself from his chair, where he might have dozed off once or twice, he wasn't sure. He collected a needle and wipes, only remembering at the last minute that he should probably check his blood sugar before trying to bolus for breakfast. Despite everything else, despite any madness on his part or Nilesy's, the sickness needed tending to. It was like the world's most lethal infant, and it refused to grow up.

Out in the main room, a gaggle of people were sitting about half-watching the morning news. Nano was dozing off with her head leaned up against Lomadia's shins while Lomadia perched on the back of the couch. Rythian was nestled in Lalna's lap, nursing a cup of tea. Lyndon was scarfing down his breakfast with reckless abandon, apparently content.

"Morning," Lomadia said, as Panda entered the room.

"Hi," said Panda, raising a heavy hand in greeting. There was a mumbled chorus of greetings. He continued on his mission for his insulin, too bleary to try and make conversation. Once he'd eaten, and maybe had some tea, then he could find the energy to be social.

Panda walked into the kitchen, yawning. He stopped a couple steps in, winding down like a toy. Zylus was there, pouring something creamy from a brown glass bottle into his morning coffee. Panda vaguely recognized it, or at least its type. Lalna had made good use of one similar for their mixed-drinks.

"Zy?" Panda said quietly, something heavy hanging on his heart.

Zylus shut his eyes and let out a slow breath, capped the bottle and put it back in the refrigerator. He stirred his coffee without looking at Panda.

"What?" he said.

"Just—it's . . . it's seven in the morning," Panda said, pained.

"And?" said Zylus. He tapped his spoon on the side of the mug and then dropped it in the sink. He wrapped his hands around the mug and took a sip, turning to lean against the kitchen counter.

"On a _Monday,"_ Panda insisted.

"Yesh," said Zylus. He took another sip of his coffee, still not looking at Panda. "What'sh your point?"

"My point—my point is, I'm—Zy, I'm _worried_ about you," he said, and he couldn't keep his voice from cracking with the strain.

"Don't be," said Zylus. "I've been doing thish for weeksh."

"That doesn't make it _better!"_

"Would you keep your voishe down?" Zylus snapped, casting a harried glance towards the main room. "God fucking forbid Nano hearsh you. She'd pitch a fucking _fit."_

"Gee, I wonder why _that_ is," Panda hissed. He came the rest of the way into the kitchen, right up to Zylus's elbow. The sharp smell of the alcohol was just barely detectable through the coffee. Zylus had gone back to not looking at him. "What the fuck are you _doing?_ What the fuck _is_ this?"

"If you had to lishten to the shit that comesh out of every head in thish plashe, you'd be shelf-medicating, too," said Zylus. He sipped his coffee. "It'sh not a problem."

"Sorry, but I think it _might_ be, at seven in the morning on a Monday," said Panda. "For _weeks._ What—what changed? What _happened?"_

"Nileshy got about ten timesh fucking crazier," Zylus said, "that'sh what." He drank again, scowling at the far wall. Panda only just barely resisted the urge to knock the mug out of his hands, and that mostly because of the sharp twinge of guilt that shot through his chest.

"Well—okay, yes, that's happened, but . . . I mean, Nilesy's had rough spots before, why's this one—"

Zylus cut him off. "It doeshn't _matter._ It worksh, it'sh not hurting anybody, it'sh _fine."_

"Zy, this isn't _healthy,_ you've got to know it's not healthy. With all your stupid psych talk, you've got to—"

"All my shtupid pshych talk tellsh me that it's _under control,"_ he interrupted. "Sho it'sh not a problem. You're overreacting. Jusht becaushe shomebody'sh drinking in the morning doeshn't make them an alcoholic. It jusht meansh they dishlike fashing the fucking world fucking shober."

 _"That's the same thing,"_ Panda said, gritting his teeth. Zylus had plucked the world _alcoholic_ straight out of his head.

Zylus sipped his coffee. "Maybe you should look up the definition of _alcoholishm,_ becaushe lasht I checked, that'sh not what it ish. I haven't misshed work, I haven't driven drunk, I haven't shuddenly found myshelf unable to shtop. It'sh under control, sho it'sh not alcoholishm, thank you very much. If you conshtantly had to lishten to _everyone'sh_ thoughtsh, _all the time,_ you'd be glad to find a mute button, too."

"There's got to be better ways to do that, though," Panda said, fidgeting. Zylus raised an eyebrow at the clock on the wall.

"Shuch ash?" he asked.

"I—I dunno, like . . . meds, or something. You can't be the _only_ telepath who wants a—a mute button. I'm sure there's _something."_ He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Unless that would leave you too _sober."_

Zylus said nothing while he drank the rest of his coffee. When he turned to rinse out his mug, his gaze stayed lowered, his eyes skipping over Panda like they were trying to avoid him. Panda put a hand on his arm and he froze, his jaw clenching.

"Zy," he said softly. "Whatever's wrong, whatever it is—I want to _help."_

"Am I a hypocrite if I shay I don't _want_ help?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," said Panda. "Definitely."

Zylus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his wrist.

"I'll be okay, Panda," he said. "I'm jusht . . . going through a rough patch. It'll get better on it'sh own. Nobody elshe needsh to get involved."

"I _want_ to get involved," Panda said. "If there's anything I can do—"

"There ishn't," said Zylus. "It'sh not shomething that any of you can fixsh. Like I shaid, it'll get better on it'sh own. I don't want to worry anybody in the meantime."

"You sound _just_ like Nano."

"I know."

"And you know I'm going to be worried anyway."

Zylus shrugged. "That'sh why you weren't shupposhed to know," he mumbled.

Squeezing his arm, Panda said, "If you think of anything—"

"I'll let you know," said Zylus. He extracted his arm from Panda's grasp, gently, and rinsed out his mug, keeping his eyes on the task.

"Okay," said Panda. After a moment's hesitation, he went around behind Zylus and opened up the fridge, getting his insulin out of the butter compartment.

"And, Panda?" Zylus said.

"Yeah?"

"Pleashe don't tell anyone elshe."

Panda looked over at Zylus just in time to see him avert his eyes. He was standing at the sink, rubbing his arm, looking for all the world like a child who'd been caught stealing cookies.

"Zy—" he began, uncertain.

"I jusht—don't want them to worry. And they _will_ worry, eshpeshially Nileshy, and you _know_ Nano'll pitch a fucking fit, and I jusht—have enough to deal with already. Sho pleashe don't tell anyone."

Frowning, Panda set out his insulin and went through the motions of giving himself his pre-breakfast injection. He could see Zylus fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, but the other man didn't interrupt. Panda put his insulin back in the fridge and sighed, wondering how many more secrets were going to get dumped on him for safekeeping.

"As long as it doesn't get any worse," he said. "If it gets worse, I'm telling."

"Panda—"

 _"You_ said it was under control," Panda cut him off, rounding on him with an accusatory finger upraised. "You _said_ it was under control, so if it gets worse, then it's _not_ under control, and I'm telling, and we're making sure it doesn't get worse _again._ That's the deal. You _keep_ it under control or I tell."

Zylus squirmed for a moment, grinding his teeth and glaring at the sink. "Deal," he said at last.

Panda took a step forward and hugged him, squeezing him as tight as he could.

"Please be okay, Zy," he muttered. Even through the usual pine and nutmeg smell of Zylus, even through the hospital-stench of the insulin lingering around him, he could still smell faint whiffs of alcohol. It made him sick to his stomach, which was unfortunate, because he'd already done his stupid injection and now he _had_ to eat. He counted himself smart for only bolusing for a bagel with cream cheese.

"I will be, shpeedy," Zylus said, patting his back.

"You'd _better_ be," said Panda.

* * *

 

Work was difficult, half because of the nearly sleepless night and half because he was busying himself worrying about three people at once. He fell asleep behind the computer twice before one of his coworkers bailed him out.

"Hey," said Neelege, prodding him awake. Neelege was a third-year Media Communications major, and the only other black employee of the university library. "C'mon, man, you can't keep passing out up here."

"Sorry," Panda mumbled, peeling his face off the desk and sitting up. "Didn't sleep well."

"Yeah, no shit. Hey listen, I'mma try and get Cait to switch with you so you're not falling asleep in front of everybody."

"No, I'll—I'll go ask her," said Panda. "Thanks though, honestly. I um—I've got a lot of stuff going on at home."

Neelege frowned. Fortunately, it was a slow day, and no one was trying to get anything from either of them, here at the reference desk. Neelege leaned in.

"This like a . . . y'know, a mutant thing?" she asked quietly. "Or like a sticking yourself with needles thing?"

"Second one's closer," said Panda, and yawned. "Mostly it's a _everybody dumps their secrets on John_ sort of thing."

"Aw shit, man," said Neelege, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Panda said emphatically. "You said it." He slid out of his chair, exhaustion making his limbs heavy.

"Hold up, before you go get Cait, you want like a coffee or something?" Neelege asked, cocking a thumb at the adjoining coffee shop just outside the security gates of the library. She nodded to herself as though making a decision. "I'mma get you a coffee or something so you don't pass out and die."

"I won't _die,"_ Panda said, rolling his eye.

"Nah, 'cause you got that diabetes shit. My grandad died from that, woke up dead one day."

A hollow space opened up in the pit of Panda's stomach. _And one day, so will I, right?_ he thought. His fists clenched at his sides. _No wonder I don't sleep, right?_

"That was probably type two diabetes," he explained patiently, for the millionth time. "I've got type one. Your granddad's body stopped being able to _use_ insulin, mine just doesn't _make_ it. It's different."

"Nah, it was type one," Neelege said cheerily. "What kinda coffee you want?"

"I don't care," Panda said, suddenly on the verge of tears. _It's your blood sugar,_ he thought. _Something's fucked up and now you're all fucked up._

"Okay, dude, okay," said Neelege, apparently catching on to the fact that _maybe_ talking about Panda's inevitable and premature death was _not_ the best course of action. "I uh . . . I'm just gonna get you something without sugar in it. 'Cause . . . okay, shit, bye."

Neelege left, muttering to herself and shaking her head. Panda hurriedly wiped the tears off his face, sniffling. First sleeping at work, now crying at work, what was next? According to Neelege, it was apparently _dying_ at work, which at this point was starting to sound less awful.

By the time Neelege came back with his coffee, Panda had pulled himself together. He accepted it graciously and went to find Caitlyn, who was usually on reshelving duty. He found her loading up a rickety metal cart with books and explained the situation to her, and she agreed to swap jobs with him with a minimum of complaining. He drank his coffee—black, bitter, and still plenty libel to fuck up his blood sugar—and tried to focus on the task at hand.

Before he was even done with his coffee, though, he'd found a nice secluded corner and was on his phone, looking up the latest news on forthcoming diabetes cures. It had originally started as a secluded corner to check his blood sugar and possibly inject insulin, but when his numbers had come out optimal he'd found himself unwilling to go back to work quite yet.

It was the same old drivel he always found with that search. _Ten years,_ or in some highly optimistic cases, _five years._ That's how long it would take to get a cure. That was always how long it would take to get a cure. They'd said _ten years_ seven years ago, when he'd first been diagnosed and was frantically searching for any kind of sign he wouldn't have to live like this forever. Every time he checked, it was _ten years._ The people who said _five_ were constantly lambasted by the greater medical community for having poor methods and poorer judgement. Panda also thought they were in rather poor taste.

So thoroughly disheartened it was making him sick, he put his phone away and got back to work.


	19. Chapter 18

Rythian had been sitting in on the morning news parties for about a week now, and was actually finding it somewhat rewarding. At the very least, he got to see everyone before they went off to work or bed, with the exception of Nilesy, who usually just drifted in to feed Lyndon and did not engage with anyone. Zylus was an intermittent companion, sometimes joining them all for breakfast and sometimes not getting out of bed until long past noon. The news itself barely featured at all in the proceedings—it was more about tea and breakfast and brief commiseration. It was strangely intimate, seeing everyone mussed and sleepy like that; there was something vulnerable about people who couldn't focus their eyes.

"Tea's ready," Panda said, shuffling in from the kitchen and planting himself on the couch. Rythian was in one of the armchairs, Nano in the other. Lomadia had taken up her customary perch on the back of the couch, and Zylus hadn't joined them yet. Lalna, sitting on the floor next to Rythian, got up.

"Would you like me to get your tea?" they offered.

"Sure," said Rythian. "Thank you."

"Could you get mine too?" Nano requested, groggy.

"Yes," said Lalna. "I'll bring it to you."

"Thanks," said Nano, and yawned into her hand.

"So what'd you do today, Lom?" Panda inquired, cradling his tea while it steamed placidly. The mornings were still blisteringly hot, but there was just no point in drinking cold tea first thing in the morning.

Lomadia shrugged. "Nothing, really. I flew up to the mountains. It took _forever,_ but it was really nice. The air is better up there, and it's really quiet."

"Yeah," said Panda. "Yeah, it is. We should go sometime. Y'know, together."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "When?"

"I dunno, maybe this weekend?"

Lalna returned from the kitchen and distributed tea to Nano and Rythian. They returned to their spot sitting next to Rythian's chair and leaned their head on his knee. He scratched them behind the ear.

"I guess," Lomadia said to Panda. "D'you want everybody to go, or just you and me?"

"I dunno, depends on who wants to go," Panda said, making a face. "I don't want to, like, not invite people, but sometimes you've just got to get away from—"

_"Shh!"_ Nano said suddenly. Rythian looked over at her. Her eyes were wide, her posture tense.

"I didn't mean it like—" Panda began.

"Shut _up!"_ she insisted, pointing at the TV.

There was a reporter onscreen, blonde, white, entirely too fresh-faced. Behind her was an image of a suburban in-ground swimming pool, seen from above. Crime scene tape had been Photoshopped across the bottom of the image. In bold, capital letters underneath was the caption, **DROWN TO PARTY.**

_"The_ _deceased_ _, thirty-eight year-old Richard Caff, lived_ _in Summerlin on_ _West Helena Avenue,"_ she was saying, her voice flat and professional.

"That is less than eight miles from here," Lalna said, frowning.

Nano looked at Rythian. Rythian looked at Nano. Panda had a hand over his mouth and Lomadia was still watching the TV, apparently unfazed.

"You don't think—" Rythian said.

"Where is he?" Nano demanded.

"Where's who?" Lomadia asked, frowning.

"Nilesy! Where _is_ he?"

"In his room," said Lomadia. "Why?"

"Because—because—"

_"Mr. Caff's_ _wife_ _discovered his body_ _in the backyard pool_ _around six a.m._ _when taking_ _the family_ _dog out for a walk._ _Although emergency services arrived promptly, Mr. Caff was declared dead on arrival—"_

"God, no," Panda whispered, putting his head in his hands. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening."

"Why's everybody all upset?" Lomadia demanded.

Nano had just opened her mouth to answer when Lyndon came galloping in from the corridor, meowing incessantly. He circled his food dish like a shark.

"All right, all right," Nilesy said, following close behind. He yawned massively. "Keep your socks on, I'm getting to it."

The TV chattered on. Rythian sat there watching Nilesy, frozen in place. Nilesy went about the business of feeding Lyndon, innocuous and sleepy, still in his pajamas. He straightened up and cracked his back. As he turned to go back to his room, he caught sight of the others, all staring at him. His face adopted an expression of drowsy confusion.

"What?" he said.

_"—believed that alcohol_ _was_ _involved in the drowning,"_ the reporter was saying. _"As of yet, the police have no reason to suspect the drowning was intentional, although the investigation is ongoing. . . ."_

The confusion morphed slowly into fear, his eyes going wide, his skin going white. He backed up a step, pressing himself against the wall.

"That—that wasn't me," he croaked, his voice shaking.

"Wasn't it?" Nano said sharply. "Where _were_ you last night, anyway?"

"That _wasn't me!"_ Nilesy cried. He was trembling visibly, his eyes fixed on the TV. "That wasn't—I didn't—people drown all the fucking time, _so?"_

"So where _were_ you last night?" Nano repeated, her voice low and angry.

"I was at fucking work!" Nilesy squeaked, finally managing to tear his eyes off the TV. "You fucking _know_ I was at fucking work!"

"And where's _work?"_ Rythian asked. "What do you even _do?"_

"I don't fucking kill people, I'll tell you that!"

"Not _lately,"_ Nano said.

"This _wasn't me!"_ Nilesy cried again. There were tears in his eyes.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Panda muttered, his fists clenched on his trousers.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Nilesy hissed, rounding on him. "What the _fuck_ did you just say?"

"Nilesy, it's okay," Lomadia said. "Nobody thinks you did it—"

"Yeah, actually, I fucking do," Nano interrupted. "He won't tell us where he was, he lied to us about keeping the mask—"

"It's none of your fucking business," Nilesy said, vehement and sharp. "None of it is any of your _fucking_ business, you don't get to—to accuse me of—of—of—"

"Reverting to type?" Nano asked sweetly.

_"I didn't do this!"_ Nilesy cried, his voice cracking. He made an emphatic gesture and the faucet in the kitchen burst to life. His head whipped around and he stared at it in horror. "I didn't . . . _I_ didn't—I was at work, I came home, I went to bed, I didn't—fucking— _do—_ this—"

"But you're not the only one in there," Rythian said darkly, "are you. Maybe it was one of the other ones."

Nilesy pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and bent at the waist, drawing sharp breaths and shaking visibly.

"It doesn't _work_ like that!" he said desperately. "It doesn't—I never—"

"How _does_ it work, then?" Nano demanded. "Does it work by you lying to us, is that how it works?"

Nilesy drew a breath as though to reply, but only stood there shivering, rocking back and forth. Suddenly, he started hitting himself in the leg, sharply. He only stopped when Lalna hurried over and caught him by the wrist. There were tears crawling down his face, his lips pressed tight together and his breath coming short and uneven.

"Oh, _now_ you've done it," Panda said bitterly.

Nilesy had wound down and stopped like a toy, standing there shivering with Lalna still holding him by the wrist, staring at nothing and crying in silence. Panda got up and went to him, touching his shoulders gently.

"Oy, Niles," he said. "C'mon, let's get you out of here so you can calm down."

"You can put him in my room," Lomadia offered. "It's quiet there."

Panda nodded to her, then turned to Lalna. "Lal, could you let go of him?"

"Okay," said Lalna. They released Nilesy's wrist, and Panda helped him walk, talking softly to him. He shot a barbed glare at Nano as he led Nilesy out, down the corridor to Lomadia's room. The door shut behind them with a little _click._

"That was really mean," Lomadia said, frowning at Nano and Rythian. "Why were you so mean to him?"

"Why—because he's _killed_ someone!" Nano cried.

"No he hasn't," said Lomadia. "He said."

"Nilesy says a lot of things," Rythian said, glaring at the carpet.

"Yeah," said Lomadia. "So?"

"So what if he was _lying,_ Lom?" Nano said.

"He wasn't," said Lomadia.

"I am not sure that is an accurate assessment," Lalna said quietly. "Nilesy has told me he lies frequently."

_"So?"_ Lomadia demanded, her wings fluffing up behind her. "I know what he gets like when he kills people, and he hasn't been like that, so he hasn't killed anybody. You don't know, you were never there."

"I _watched_ him murder Xephos," Nano spat. "I was there for _that,_ and just about everything that came after, and you know, this is looking a bit similar!"

"Why're you being like this?" Lomadia said. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because you don't _know!_ You'd believe _anything_ he told you, Jesus Christ!"

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't!"

"He's going to get us all _killed,_ Lom! YogLabs is _going_ to catch on and they're _going_ to find us, if the police don't first. We can't _afford_ to believe him, we can't afford to let him kill anybody else!"

"You don't care about anybody but you!" Lomadia cried, her wings flaring out behind her and clipping the ceiling. "You just yelled at him until his voice went away so he can't yell back and now you're saying whatever you want about him! I hate you! I _hate_ you!"

She stormed away, slamming the door to her bedroom behind her.

_"Fine!"_ Nano yelled after her. "Fuck you, too!"

There was a moment of silence. Rythian looked over at Lalna, nervous and awkward. Lalna's eyes had turned white and they were hiding up against the wall, shrunken into themselves as though trying to appear small. Lyndon had run off at some point during all the yelling, leaving his food bowl half full.

"Um," Rythian said.

"Don't you say a fucking _word,"_ Nano snarled. She got up and stalked out of the duplex, slamming that door, too.

"Everyone is very upset," Lalna said quietly.

Rythian sighed. He got up and went to Lalna, taking their hand.

"That's . . . accurate," he said.

"I am scared."

"I know," said Rythian. "I'm sorry."

"Rythian?"

"What?"

"There is no evidence that Nilesy killed that man, but everyone is behaving as though it's a fact that he did. I don't understand why. Have I missed something?"

"Well . . . no," said Rythian, shifting. "It's just that . . . it seems like—well, what else could have killed him? And—Nilesy's been . . . I don't know, _off._ For a—a while now."

Lalna nodded. "His symptoms have become more prominent, likely as a result of stress," they said. "I still don't understand why you are all accusing him of murder when there is no evidence."

"The . . . well—well," said Rythian. He took his hand out of Lalna's and scratched the back of his head. "You said it, he lies all the time."

They tipped their head to the side. "I don't understand," they said. "I was merely pointing out that he might be lying. It was not meant to be evidence that he has committed murder. There is no evidence of that."

"Apart from the dead guy who drowned eight miles from here?" Rythian suggested.

"There are approximately three thousand, five hundred and thirty-six fatal, unintentional, non-boating related drownings in the United States every year. That is approximately ten deaths from unintentional drowning per day. Statistically, it is not surprising that someone has unintentionally drowned in our vicinity within the eleven months we have lived here. With moderate simplifications, I believe the odds were approximately twenty percent."

Rythian dropped his eyes and swallowed. Something was squirming up in his stomach, making him fidgety and sick.

"Well," he said. "When you . . . put it like that."

"The broadcast also said alcohol was likely involved. Alcohol is involved in over seventy percent of unintentional drownings of adolescents and adults. Only slightly less than half of unintentional drownings of adults occur in non-natural water sources—"

"Lalna, please stop," Rythian said. He turned away, hugging himself.

"Why?" they asked.

"Because I—am upset," he said. "And I don't—I don't need to hear anymore, all right? I get it, I'm a dick, we all just went off on a witch-hunt for no fucking reason, I'm _sorry,_ all right?"

"I was only explaining the statistics," Lalna said, sounding baffled. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Rythian took a deep breath. "It's . . . not your fault," he said. "I . . . probably deserve to feel like shit. _Christ._ What's _wrong_ with me?"

"You were likely afraid," Lalna said. "Fear tends to—"

"That wasn't an actual question, Lalna," Rythian said.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Rythian didn't risk a glance at Lalna—he could imagine the look of injured confusion on their face and he wouldn't have been able to stomach it on top of all the guilt already gnawing at him.

"You should . . . probably give that drowning speech to Nano, too," he said eventually.

"Do you think that will be helpful?"

"I think I don't want to be the only one who feels like a piece of shit," Rythian said. "And . . . yes, maybe it will be helpful."

"Okay," said Lalna. "I'm very sorry I upset you."

"It's . . . fine. Sometimes people need to be upset. Or—something. I needed to hear it. And Nano probably does, too. She'll . . . probably also be upset."

"I see," said Lalna. "I don't want to upset her, but if it's necessary, I will do it anyway."

Still without looking at them, Rythian reached out and patted their arm. "Thank you," he said.

"You should apologize to Nilesy," they said. "For falsely accusing him of murder and upsetting him."

"I will—take that into consideration, thank you," said Rythian, trying to keep the impatience out of his tone.

"When Zylus wakes up, he can determine whether or not Nilesy was lying," Lalna said. "I'm not supposed to consider his Powers, but in this case I believe they are too useful to discard as an option."

"That . . . sounds like a good plan, Lalna, great," said Rythian. "I'm going to . . . go to my room. Please don't come with me."

"Okay," said Lalna. "Is it because you are still upset?"

"Yes," Rythian said shortly, and walked out.

* * *

 

About an hour later, Nano came and collected him.

"We're going to have a chat with Nilesy," she said. "D'you want to be there?"

"Don't you have work?" Rythian asked, frowning.

"I've called in sick," she said. "So has Panda. We're not risking going out, not now. D'you want to tag along or not?"

"I—yes, but. . . ."

"But what?"

"It's just that, it feels like . . . ganging up on him."

"You're free to take his side if it makes you feel better," Nano said. "All the more reason for you to be there, I'd think."

"Did—did Lalna give you the drowning talk?" Rythian asked, apprehensive.

"They gave me some statistics," Nano said. "Not hugely convincing ones, either."

"Christ, are you really going to be _this_ stubborn? Whatever happened to _innocent until proven guilty?"_

"This isn't a courtroom, you're not a cop, and we can't afford the benefit of the doubt," Nano snapped. "Are you coming or not?"

Rythian ground his teeth. A spark skittered up his spine and got lost in his hair.

"Fine," he said.

They returned to the lefthand side and went down the corridor to Lomadia's room. Nilesy was sitting on her bed, Panda on his left and Lomadia on his right. He'd clearly been crying for quite some time, and he only glanced up briefly when Nano and Rythian entered the room. Lalna was already there, standing off to one side. Zylus was notably absent.

"Where's, um, where's Zylus?" Rythian asked, trying to sound casual.

"He's not up for . . . this. At the moment," Panda said. It could have been Rythian's imagination, but he looked a little shifty. "He'll come confirm everything later."

"But why not just wait?" said Rythian. "Until he's _up for it,_ or whatever."

"I thought it'd be nice to give Nilesy a chance to tell the truth on his own," Nano said lightly, sitting down in Lomadia's desk chair and crossing her legs. "If he can."

"Stop it," Lomadia snapped, bristling. Nano swallowed and looked away, some of her angry confidence fading.

"Fine," said Nano. "All right, Nilesy, let's hear it. Where were you last night?"

Nilesy took a long breath and sighed. He did not raise his head, just continued staring at his own hands, clasped in his lap.

"If I tell you," he said, his voice low and defeated, "will you believe me?"

Nano cast her eyes to the ceiling and considered.

"Maybe," she said. "Depends on how far-fetched it is."

Nilesy sighed. "S'pose that's the best I'll get," he muttered. He rubbed his face, then pushed his fingers up into his hair and rested his forehead on the heels of his hands.

"Whenever you're ready, Niles," said Panda.

"There's this . . . company," Nilesy said slowly. "And they're selling—they're saying if an ordinary person injects themselves with Powered blood . . . they get Powers. Temporarily. For . . . six to fourteen hours. Charge a fucking arm and a leg for it. And I . . . it's my job to . . . convince stupid people that it works, and get them to come in and pay five hundred fucking dollars for an _ounce_ of Powered blood. And . . . also sometimes to provide the blood. _O_ negative. Can't get enough of it, ahah."

"That's fucking _sick,"_ said Nano, recoiling.

"Jesus Christ," Rythian muttered, nauseated.

"Does it—I mean, does it . . . _work?"_ Panda asked, staring at Nilesy with a mixture of horror and delight.

Nilesy wrinkled his nose. "No, it doesn't fucking _work._ What _works_ is the hallucinogenic mushroom extract they mix in."

"Oh holy shit," said Panda, grinning.

"That's so incredibly fucking illegal I don't even know where to _start,"_ said Nano.

"Yeah?" said Panda. "So is black-market Power trade, but you don't get on to Rythian for that, and he does it all the time."

"That's—not nearly as bad!" Rythian objected, going hot. "This—you—"

"Okay, but he hasn't killed anyone," said Lomadia. "So it doesn't matter. Why do you care? It's not hurting anybody."

"Drugging people without their consent is _pretty fucking hurtful,"_ Nano snapped.

"They're treating it like a drug," Panda retorted. "I say they fucking deserve whatever they get. You can't just _try on_ having Powers, like it's a fucking costume. Drugging them is going fucking easy on them, you ask me. They _could_ be putting mutagens in their blood, _that'd_ serve the fuckers right."

"I'm not saying I don't think they're scum, I'm saying what Nilesy's doing is wrong!"

"But he hasn't killed anyone," Lomadia said again, insistent. "Why are you still mad? Why are we still talking about this?"

"Because _some_ of us have _morals!"_ Nano retorted.

"What, is this a slippery slope I'm on?" Nilesy inquired, his mouth pulling into a smile. "Think I might graduate from scams to murder? One's a _lot_ less profitable than the other."

"You stay out of this," she said.

"No," said Nilesy, grinning in earnest now. "I don't think I will. Have you got a problem with me, Dr. Sounds? Have you got a problem with my occupation?"

"Niles, stop," Panda said, and there was genuine fear in his voice. He was hanging on to Nilesy as though to keep him from rising, but was also leaning away slowly.

"Oh, come now, darling, so long as we're discussing this like _adults,"_ Nilesy said, never taking his eyes off Nano. "Maybe our resident _paragon_ of virtue will _deign_ to tell me what the fuck her problem is."

"My _problem_ is that you're going to get us all _killed!"_ Nano said. There was a strange sheen to her skin, not quite like sweat. Wisps of white smoke were rising from the collar of her shirt.

"Would you like me to expedite the process?" Nilesy offered, showing teeth. His eyes were glittering, cold. Something about his posture left Rythian's lungs aching with remembered pain.

"You sound like Xephos," Nano shot.

"Okay, what the _fuck—"_ Panda snarled, leaping to his feet.

Nilesy threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh, heavens no, Dr. Sounds," he said, in such an uncanny mimicry of Xephos's clipped and proper voice that it made Rythian's skin crawl. "You haven't even _begun_ to hear me sound like Xephos."

There were five seconds of dead silence, heavy in the sweltering heat. Nilesy dropped his eyes and shrank against his skeleton, becoming smaller, younger, more fragile.

"If you'd ever wondered what the accent was about," he said quietly, back in his Scottish brogue, "that's it."

"If you were looking for sympathy, you just blew it," Nano said. Her voice shook.

"Stop," Lomadia said, her voice deep and commanding. "Everybody stop it. Nilesy hasn't killed anybody. Nilesy's not going to kill anybody. We're done. Everybody go away now and leave him alone."

"Lom—" Panda began. She rounded on him, her wings flaring out to fill half the room.

"Go _away,"_ she ordered.

"Fine," said Nano. "We'll be back with Zylus later to see if his story checks out."

Nilesy put his face in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees, shivering intermittently. Lomadia put a protective arm around his shoulder and lifted her chin defiantly. Nano clenched her jaw, then turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. Meekly, Lalna followed her, saying nothing.

"Lom, come on, you're not going to kick _me_ out—" Panda said, plaintive.

"I'll pick you up and throw you," Lomadia warned.

"I haven't _done_ anything!"

"Just . . . let it go," Rythian said quietly. Panda whirled, and suddenly there was a knife in his hand.

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do," he snarled. "Don't you fucking _dare—"_

"Oh _whatever,"_ Rythian said, rolling his eyes. He turned and walked out, shaking his head.

A knife thudded into the wall half an inch from his ear and stuck there, humming. Rythian froze. A single spark crackled up his spine.

He reached up, pulled the knife out of the wall, and walked away with it.


	20. Chapter 19

By the time Zylus came in to talk to him, Nilesy was a wreck. His nerves were shattered, his head full of mist and noise. He could not stop shivering, though his skin was flushed sickly hot. When the door opened and Zylus stepped in, his heart leapt into his throat and his hand clenched involuntarily on Lomadia's arm.

Zylus shut the door behind him, quietly. His face was grim.

"Lom, could you give ush a few minutesh?" he said.

"What? Why?" Nilesy said. The words came out high and quick, half-panicked.

"Becaushe it'sh hard enough looking in your head without any dishtractionsh," said Zylus.

Lomadia got to her feet. "Okay," she said.

"Thanksh," said Zylus. "The kitchen should be far enough. If you can't hear me, I probably can't hear you, or at leasht not enough to matter."

"That makes sense," said Lomadia. She started for the door. Nilesy's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist of its own accord.

"No!" he blurted. He couldn't catch his breath. Lomadia looked down at him, frowning.

"What?" she said.

Nilesy glanced at Zylus, twitchy and sweating.

"Ah—well, you know, ahah, there's just—what if something goes wrong, and—and he . . . there's precedent, you know, for—"

"If anything goesh wrong," Zylus said calmly, "you can jusht go get shomeone. A few shecondsh won't kill me, even if I _do_ get shtuck."

Nilesy gulped. "R-right. Right. Yeah, of course, well. . . ."

Lomadia leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

"I'll just be in the kitchen," she said. "Even if you just talk loud, I'll hear you. You don't even have to yell."

Reluctantly, he released her wrist. She left, shutting the door behind her. Zylus kept his head turned, as though listening to her walk away, for a good few seconds. Nilesy's heart pounded in his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Eventually, Zylus sighed and crossed to him. To Nilesy's horror, he knelt on the floor in front of him and took his hands.

"I—I didn't . . . hurt anyone," Nilesy croaked, desperate to keep to the task at hand, to not let his mind wander, to not think about those dreams, those wretched _dreams. . . ._ "I swear. I didn't do it. I didn't do _anything."_

Zylus was quiet, his brow furrowed, his eyes lowered. Nilesy watched him with a slow dread oozing through his insides.

Very quietly, he asked: "Did I?"

Zylus looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He let out a breath and shook his head, shutting his eyes. Nilesy's stomach dropped.

"Of courshe you didn't," said Zylus.

"Jesus fucking Christ, don't _scare_ me like that," Nilesy said, nervous laughter making his words skip and hiccup. Zylus was still on his knees in front of him. His hands were warm and soft, their grip gentle. Nilesy's skin itched everywhere they touched him.

"Nileshy," Zylus said quietly, holding not-quite-eye-contact. "You know it doeshn't work like that. You'd know if you'd killed anyone. _I'd_ know."

"Yes! That's—that's what I was trying to _tell_ them, but—"

"But everyone'sh made up their mindsh that you've already shnapped?" Zylus supplied.

"I—I s'pose . . . but not _everyone,_ surely—"

"Telepath," Zylus reminded him.

Nilesy dropped his eyes. "You'll tell them, won't you?" he said. "You'll tell them I didn't do this? That I _wouldn't._ That I don't—I don't _do_ that anymore. You'll convince them, that I—that it wasn't me. That it _won't be_ me."

"I'd love to," said Zylus. "But I'm not going to lie to them. Sho tell me, Nileshy: _ish_ it going to happen again? _Are_ you going to shnap?"

"No!" Nilesy said, trying to pull away from him. Zylus gripped his hands, inescapable, his gaze unwavering.

"How often do you think about it, Nileshy?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "How often do you imagine?"

He swallowed, looked away. There was no point in lying to Zylus. The words tasted like acid on his tongue.

"Every day," he whispered.

"Promishe me you can keep it under control," Zylus said, squeezing his hands, "and I'll never breathe a word of thish. Any of thish."

"Well—but—" Nilesy said. His heart was skipping beats. There was something cold in his bones.

"Nileshy," Zylus said, gentle, pitying. "Do you _honeshtly_ think, if they knew how much you wanted it, they'd let you walk around looshe? They'd lock you up again if they knew. I don't _want_ to have to tell them. I don't want to do that to you. Sho _convinshe_ me that I don't have to."

"You—hang on, whatever happened to—to all that _needing help_ business? Whatever happened to _that?"_

"You honeshtly mean to tell me," Zylus said softly, "that you think what they did to you at Fair Isle wash _helping?"_

Nilesy went rigid. His insides plunged into a briny abyss, lightless. His bones went brittle with the cold. The air was ice in his lungs.

"They wouldn't," he said, his breath fogging before him.

"You _know_ Nano would lock you up the firsht chanshe she got," Zylus said. "She'sh practically frothing at the mouth. Trusht me, Nileshy, they would every lasht one of them throw you under the wheelsh if they thought it would keep them shafe from YogLabsh. I've heard them think it over and over."

He could just see it. Nano's fervor was bordering on pathological. She was afraid, she was hurt, she was angry. It was easy to imagine her thought process. Nilesy attracted too much attention. Better by far to lock him away somewhere where he wouldn't bring down the hammer of YogLabs upon them. Better that only one of them should fall to torture and imprisonment than all of them.

"That'sh why I don't want to tell them about thish," Zylus went on. "About the thoughtsh. About how much you want it, how much it _callsh_ to you. It'sh exshactly the kind of thing I'm _shupposhed_ to rat on you for, but I don't want to do it. I don't want to do that to you. Sho _promishe me_ it won't happen for real, and your shecret will be shafe with me."

"I—I promise," Nilesy said, affection welling like a warm current amidst all the icy waters of him. "I promise, Zylus."

Zylus nodded. "Thank you," he said. "But . . . I need one other favor before I can commit to thish."

"Anything," said Nilesy.

"If you ever deshide, for shome shtupid reashon, that you _want_ them to know, you tell me firsht. You tell me firsht, and you let me break the newsh."

"Why?"

"Becaushe if _you_ tell them, and I don't, they'll _know_ I've been hiding it from them. They'll think I can't be trushted, and when they have you committed, I won't be able to do anything to help. All I want ish a little wiggle room beforehand, sho I have shpashe for contingenshiesh. Can you do that?"

"Y-yes," said Nilesy. "I can—but it's not like I'm _going_ to tell them, not when—"

"I know, I know," Zylus cut him off. "But—you don't alwaysh think shtraight, Nileshy. You don't alwaysh know what you're doing. And it'll alsho give me a chanshe to talk you out of it, sho . . . jusht come to me firsht. All right?"

"All right," said Nilesy, nodding. There were tears in his eyes, a shivering weakness in his limbs. "Zylus. . . ."

"What?"

He took a deep breath. He spoke so softly he could barely hear himself.

"What if I can't stop it?" he said.

Zylus winced, turning his head aside. He wetted his lips and swallowed.

"I don't think it'll come to that," he said. "At leasht—not anytime shoon. And I think we'll have shome warning. I think—if you shtart having dreamsh about it, I think _that'sh_ when we might have to worry. But I think the dreamsh will come firsht, jusht knowing how your brain worksh. I think we're all right for now."

Nilesy was quiet, trying to remember how to breathe. His hands had gone numb, his eyes unfocused. His face was prickling.

"So you'll tell them?" he said at last. "That this one wasn't me?"

"Of courshe," said Zylus. "I'll do everything I can to convinshe them."

"Thank you," said Nilesy, bowing his head. He knew he ought to feel relieved, but all he felt was scared, lonely, cold. There was something of genuine gratitude sitting warm in his chest, but it was a small and misshapen thing.

Zylus squeezed his hands again. "Anytime," he said.

* * *

 

Even after two days, Nilesy was unable to face the others without choking on fear. Panda was trying to be apologetic, demonstrating his contrition in cups of tea and little gifts. Rythian was constantly abashed and avoided Nilesy as much as possible. Lalna apologized honestly and unreservedly, then appeared to consider the matter settled. Lomadia, in her usual way, carried on as though nothing much out of the ordinary had happened, which was something of a comfort. Nano was her polar opposite, keeping suspicious eyes on Nilesy whenever possible and somehow neglecting to be sorry at all for accusing him of murder. Zylus was present, if judiciously distant. He didn't say much, but Nilesy understood his unspoken implication.

_I'm here if you need me._

There was no way he could go back to work, now or ever, so he put in a heartfelt resignation over the phone. It didn't go well, but no one he worked with knew where he lived or even what his real name was, so there was very little possibility that they would come after him. It wasn't that he'd had an attack of conscience over the repugnance of the work, but rather that he was absolutely convinced none of the others were going to let him out of the house unsupervised ever again. Nano, in particular, would probably rather have knocked him out and tied him up in a closet than allowed him to go back to work. That wasn't a contest he was prepared to undertake, nor a conversation he was prepared to have, so he accepted his fate as a shut-in without forcing anyone else to assign it to him. He would rather have been a prisoner of his own volition than anyone else's.

He was vaguely aware that the rest of them were making plans for Saturday, to which he was clearly not invited. He gathered it had something to do with the massive manmade lake to the north of Las Vegas, which went a long way towards explaining _why_ he wasn't invited. Panda, at least, seemed unhappy with this state of affairs, but he made no attempt to bring Nilesy into the planning. At the very least, Lomadia wasn't going, either, since the bright desert days didn't agree with her, and nor did water.

On Friday, while the others were having their weekly unwinding over video games and talk, Nilesy slunk off to his room, stinging with loneliness. He burrowed into his bed and curled up as small as he would go, putting the pillow over his head to muffle the sound of the others' merriment. They were better off without him. They were so _clearly_ better off without him.

His thoughts, as he drifted off to sleep, were morbid ones.

* * *

 

Nilesy woke in the night, unsettled. He lay in bed for several minutes, trying to work out what had roused him. He had the unshakeable feeling that someone was in his room, someone had moved his things around and was stirring the air with their breath. He stayed perfectly still, listening. There was no movement in the house around him, not so much as a creaking floorboard. Lomadia was still out at work, and Panda and Zylus were almost certainly asleep.

_Paranoid,_ he thought to himself. _Probably just Lyndon. Fucking paranoid._

Still, the tension in his spine would not release, and his mind was whirring far too fast for sleep. He got up, made a cursory check of his room just to make _sure_ nothing had been moved, then shuffled to the bathroom, yawning. He didn't bother turning on the lights, plenty familiar with the shape of the room.

He stepped inside and his bare foot touched cold water, puddled on the floor. He froze, a spark skittering up through his skeleton. The tension in his spine ratcheted up another notch. Staring blindly into the darkness, he reached out a shaking hand and flicked on the lights.

The floor was covered in water, flooded out from the brimming bathtub. The sink was full, too, still as glass. Sitting on the countertop, resting in a puddle, was the mask, staring at him eyeless and hollow and cold.

Written on the mirror, scrawled in blood, were two words.

 

_**IT'S TIME** _

 

Nilesy stared, shaking, frozen, struggling for breath. There was a roar like an oncoming train in his head, a frigid darkness in his bones, the crushing weight of an abyss squeezing down on his heart and lungs. All around him, the water on the floor and in the sink and in the tub started to quiver, sharing his tremors until droplets leapt frothing from its surface. He had eyes for the mask alone, unable to look away, unable to break its gaze, and the abyss was rushing up to swallow him, filling his lungs, the promise of pain and numbness and _release._

_No,_ he thought, pushing against it, trying to kick his way back to the surface of his mind. _No._

And another part of him whispered in a voice that was familiar, stronger: _Dreaming, darling. Only dreaming. No harm in dreaming._

Slowly, he reached out a hand. . . .

* * *

 

Nilesy pounded on Zylus's door, shaking and nauseous. He'd thrown up three times already, had woken so sick and frightened that there was no room for anything else, searched his room and the bathroom in panic for any sign that last night had really happened. The mask had been in its place, the bathroom mirror clean, the floors dry, but then why was he so sore and scrubbed out and tired, why did his hair smell of dust and alleyways, why did he remember—

_Writhing on the ground, heels dragging in the_ _gravel_ _, helpless, terrified, silent—_

Zylus opened the door and flinched. His skin was sallow, his eyes bloodshot, he smelled powerfully of gin.

"Inshide," he said immediately. Nilesy staggered in and Zylus shut the door behind him. Could Panda hear them through the walls? Could Lomadia? For that matter, where were Nano and Rythian and Lalna? How much did they know, how much had he given away? He was going to throw up again. He couldn't breathe.

"Jeshush," Zylus muttered, pressing a hand to his head. "Nileshy, calm down, I'm already hungover ash fuck, you're not helping."

"Zylus—I—I—last night—" the words were slipping away from him. His heart was pounding so fast it was nearly a single tone. The air was so thin that his vision was going, his head spinning and his muscles turning to water.

"Nileshy, calm down, it'sh okay. Tell me what happened," said Zylus. "Lasht night?"

Nilesy was frantic by this point, pacing and tugging at his hair, making panicked little movements with his hands and arms, so wound up with fearful energy that he was about to snap.

"I don't—I don't know, I didn't mean to, I wasn't—and then—but I was— _must've_ been dreaming, because—because—but they won't—but I don't know if I—"

"Nileshy, _Nileshy!"_ Zylus interrupted, grabbing him by the shoulders and halting his frantic movements. "Eashy, take it eashy, tell me what happened."

_And afterwards, just to add to the depravity, those arms around his waist, those lips against his neck—_

"I—it—I was—it was—" He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see straight. His head was spinning and his heart was skipping beats, he was shaking and weak and burning up with fever.

"Okay, okay, I know," said Zylus. He helped Nilesy to the floor and sat down with him, while Nilesy rocked and gasped and cried and shivered. His mind would not focus, swamped in fear, he was going to pass out, he'd never wake up because his heart had really honestly stopped and he knew because he recognized the pain, he was dying, he was absolutely going to die, right here on the floor—

"Nileshy, you're not dying," Zylus said, his voice low and calm, reassuring. "You're having a panic attack. Your heart'sh fine. I know it doeshn't _feel_ fine, but I promishe it ish. I'm going to take your hand now and help you find your own pulshe, sho you can tell your heart'sh fine. Okay?"

He couldn't make himself respond, couldn't muster enough control, but Zylus took his hand anyway and guided it to his throat, pressed two of Nilesy's fingers to the jugular vein and held them there. Nilesy could feel his pulse under his fingers, rabbit-quick but strong and steady. He was still struggling to breathe, still couldn't think, still shivering and hot and fogged-over.

Zylus kept talking to him, quiet and soothing, gently grounding him whenever he drifted too far. Nilesy had no idea how much time had passed by the time he finally started to calm down, but it felt like hours. The first real thing he noticed, as he settled back into his right mind, was that his throat was so dry as to be painful. He tried to gather himself to speak, but he was still far too scattered with fear to have any hope of finding his voice.

Zylus patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll get you a glassh of water," he said. "I'll be back in thirty shecondsh. You can count down, if you want. It'll help you calm down."

Nilesy nodded, and Zylus got up and moved away. He counted down from thirty in his head, taking long and shuddering breaths. Zylus came back when he got to _eight_ and handed him a glass of cool water. Nilesy drank it slowly, and by the time he was done with it, he was breathing properly again.

"Okay?" Zylus asked.

"Better," Nilesy said. Speaking was difficult, but he could manage well enough. Again, he wondered where the others were, if they could hear him, if he dared to speak aloud with them so close by.

"They're all at the lake," said Zylus. "Exshept Lom, but she'sh shleeping. Can you tell me what happened?"

Nilesy mustered himself, tried to get his thoughts in order. Dredging up the sawtoothed memories brought a new fog of panic to his mind, threatening to overwhelm him again. Zylus put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him, comforting and warm.

"It'sh okay," said Zylus. "In your own time."

It took him another few minutes, but finally he managed to collect himself enough to speak again.

"I . . . dreamed," he said. "About . . . _it._ But it—it felt _real._ It felt. . . . And—and I know, I know it was just a dream, but . . . you said. That the point we had to worry was when—was when the dreams started, and—"

"Wait, wait," Zylus interrupted. "When did I shay that?"

"When—two days ago?" Nilesy said. "When—y'know, when the . . . when that other man . . . died?"

Frowning, Zylus shook his head. "I never shaid that, Nileshy. All I shaid wash that you'd probably _have_ dreamsh. That'sh all. Not that they _meant_ anything."

"I . . . oh," said Nilesy. He was having trouble breathing again. There were tears prickling at his eyes and something was crushing his chest. "I must've . . . misunderstood."

"Undershtandable," said Zylus. "You weren't exshactly thinking shtraight. I'm shorry I gave you the wrong impression."

"It's—no, don't worry about it," said Nilesy. "I just—it was— _I_ was—"

"I know," said Zylus. "And I know it'sh not fun, but . . . I think thish ish probably for the besht. The dreamsh, I mean."

"How could this _possibly_ be for the best?" Nilesy exclaimed.

"Shh," Zylus admonished. "You'll wake Lom up."

"But—"

He held up a hand, bowing his head. "I know it doeshn't feel like it, but hear me out. Thish—all of thish—ish shome kind of shtressh reshponshe. At leasht, that'sh the mosht shenshe I can make out of it. Sho I think what'sh happening here ish that, shinshe you can't decompressh in real life, your shubconscioush hash . . . taken up the initiative. Sho you're dreaming about it. And that'sh helping you decompressh. I mean, better to do it in your dreamsh than in real life, right?"

"R-right," said Nilesy. He felt like his muscles had half come loose from his bones.

"Sho . . . it'sh okay. It'sh okay to have theshe dreamsh, and honeshtly, the lessh you shtressh out about them, the more likely they are to go away. Jusht let them run their courshe and . . . try not to worry about it. It might even help if you could, I don't know, kind of _lean into_ them a little. Your mind knowsh how to take care of itshelf, and fighting it ish almosht alwaysh counterproductive."

"I'm—that doesn't sound _at all_ true," said Nilesy, with some measure of damp humor.

Zylus shrugged. "I'm only shpeaking from exshperienshe. Maybe your exshperienshe ish different from mine. I don't know everything."

"No, really?" said Nilesy. "Could've . . . could've fooled me."

Zylus gave him a pitying smile and patted his shoulder.

"It'sh going to be all right, Nileshy," he said. "Thish ishn't the end of the world. It'sh not even the end of the line. Jusht hang on, and I promishe, it _will_ get better."

Nilesy nodded, took a deep breath and sighed it out.

"Thank you," he said. "For . . . all of this."

Zylus squeezed him again. "Thanksh for coming to me firsht, inshtead of doing shomething shtupid," he said.

"Hah. I sort of feel like this was a bit stupid, too."

"Probably the leasht shtupid of all the optionsh you had," Zylus said. "I'm alwaysh happy to help."

Sniffling, Nilesy got to his feet, aching and rusty and exhausted. Zylus stood as well, groaning like an old man.

"I'll . . . let you tend to that hangover, then," said Nilesy, smiling wanly.

"Thanksh, said Zylus. "Go eat shomething. You'll feel better."

After a moment's hesitation, Nilesy hugged him.

"I love you," he said, his voice a bare whisper.

Zylus put his arms around Nilesy and squeezed.

"Love you too, Nileshy," he said.


	21. Chapter 20

The drive back from Lake Mead was a subdued affair, and not entirely because the group was tired. Rythian and Lalna were sitting in the back of the car, Rythian's head resting on Lalna's shoulder as he dozed. Rythian hadn't gotten in the water, but this didn't seem to have had any effect on his exhaustion level. Nano was driving, and Panda sat in the front seat. The radio was tuned to an acceptably bad radio station and the air con was on full-blast. Panda's skin was gritty and itchy from sand and sweat, his hair still heavy with water. He sat staring out the window, watching the dusty spread of Las Vegas grow steadily nearer.

"Pity Zy couldn't come with us," he remarked. "Seems sort of unfair, since it was his idea in the first place."

"Well, that's what he gets for drinking himself sick," Nano said primly. A twinge struck through Panda's chest and he hunched his shoulders, turning a little further away from her.

"I guess," he said. "Still, we could've, like, put it off until tomorrow or something."

"Could have, yeah," Nano admitted. "Then again, I'm not sure Zylus would've gone then, either. It was awfully crowded."

"He doesn't like crowds," Lalna said. "I believe it's mostly related to his social anxiety."

"That and his Powers, yeah," said Panda. "Though I think they're pretty tangled up."

"Anyway, he _said_ he didn't mind us going on without him," Nano said.

"Zy'll say anything if he thinks it'll make people less uncomfortable," Panda said.

"Ah!" said Lalna, as though having some kind of robotic lightbulb-moment. "So he _also_ frequently lies to everyone he knows."

_"Oh_ yeah," said Panda. "I mean, not like on _important_ stuff, but yeah. I think it's like, unbearably uncomfortable for him to inconvenience other people."

Nano glanced at him. The car was quiet as they changed freeways to the one that would bring them around Vegas to Summerlin.

"Panda," she said at last, "how sure are you? That he doesn't lie about important things."

He turned his head to get her in sight of his good eye.

"Pretty fucking sure," he said. "Why?"

"I just—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "I've got a feeling that he—maybe knows more than he's saying."

"Of course he does, he's a telepath," Panda scoffed.

"It would be very difficult for him to say everything he knows," Lalna said. "Humans are capable of storing very high volumes of data—"

"That's—yes, thank you, Lal, but that's not what I meant," Nano said.

"Well then what _did_ you mean?" Panda asked.

"I mean—I mean something's _wrong_ with Nilesy," she said, her voice uncommonly emotional.

"Oh _don't_ start," Panda said, rolling his eye. "You honestly can't fucking let it go! It's no wonder he didn't want to come with us, with you fucking—"

"Would you _please_ let me finish a fucking thought?" she snapped, her hands clenching on the wheel. There was a faint sizzling sound, and the smell of burning plastic filled the car. Panda leaned away from her, looking her up and down.

"Okay, fine, no need to pitch a fit," he said.

Nano took a slow breath through her nose and let it out through her teeth.

"Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean for things to get quite that . . . intense. Look, all I'm saying is: Nilesy's _clearly_ not all right. It's painfully obvious that _something's_ wrong. But every time anybody asks Zylus about it, he says it's fine, it's nothing to worry about, it'll take care of itself. I just. . . ."

She trailed off. A couple of miles sped by to the quiet scratching of the radio.

"You just what?" Panda said quietly.

"I just want to know if we can trust him," Nano said.

"Of course we can trust him, it's _Zylus,"_ Panda retorted.

"Y'know, I'd say that's exactly why we _can't_ trust him," she said, her lip curling. "The first time I ever met him, he played me like a fucking _fiddle._ I'm not proud of it, but I haven't _forgotten_ it, either. He did it to me and Rythian both. And you _saw_ how he treated Nilesy just after . . . the Xephos incident."

"Yeah, and then you tore him a new arsehole and he got his fucking act together," Panda said. "All that bullshit was like a _year_ ago, Nano. It's not a thing anymore."

"His behavior _has_ changed significantly since I was first introduced to him," Lalna said.

"Positively, or negatively?" Nano asked.

Lalna paused. "I'm not sure," they said. "I am certain that Nano and Rythian have grown much more comfortable around him. I believe this indicates that the change in his behavior has been positive."

_"Mmnh,"_ Rythian mumbled, shifting slightly against Lalna's shoulder. They tipped their head over to touch their cheek to the top of his head.

"See, but that's the _thing,"_ said Nano. "He does this—this thing, where he gets in your head and says all the right things and before you know it you're giving him your credit card number. All I'm saying is, maybe we should _consider_ the _possibility_ that he's not . . . on the level."

Panda chewed his lip, thinking. Outside the window, Las Vegas slid by, gold and gleaming.

"If he's not," he said at last, "it's probably for the best. Or at least what he _thinks_ is best. Which, yeah, he hasn't always got the best judgement, but . . . I dunno, I think you're maybe being a bit paranoid, honestly."

Nano made a face. "I guess," she said. "I'm just—I'm really, _really_ not comfortable with the way things have been going lately. Maybe I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop with the YogLabs thing, or—something, I don't know. This whole Nilesy situation's got me nervous."

"Yeah, well," said Panda, shrugging. "You're not the only one."

* * *

 

He'd just gotten home from work, about a week after the trip to Lake Mead, when he saw the news. He'd been fooling around on the internet, going through the motions, abstracted and distant as only Monday afternoons could make him. It didn't register, at first. He scrolled past. He stopped. He scrolled back. He clicked.

Something in his brain sped up, and up and up and up. He read the article six times through in the span of thirty seconds. He stuffed his knuckles in his mouth to keep from crying aloud. He shot out of his chair and paced his room and came back and read it again.

In a burst of speed, he dashed into the front room and impacted against the couch and blurted it out in front of God and everybody.

_"They've got a cure!"_

Nano looked up sharply. Rythian started, Lalna frowned, Lomadia winced and stuck a finger in her ear.

"I . . . have . . . no . . . idea . . . what . . . you . . . just . . . said," Nano declared, speaking unbearably slowly. Panda let out a noise of raw frustration and dashed down to the end of the corridor and back, trying to burn off some of his excess energy.

"They've. Got. A. Cure," he said, speaking slowly and enunciating clearly. His voice was shaking.

"What?" Nano exclaimed.

"That's great!" said Lomadia, beaming.

"Who have?" said Nano.

"I don't—some _people,_ all right, some biotech lab in California, it's a biomechanical pancreas, it makes its own insulin and it's hypoallergenic so my body won't just kill it like it killed the one I've already got, they've tried it on mice and chimps and it works in ninety-eight percent of cases, _they've got a cure!"_

"What's the name of this lab?" Nano asked, taking out her phone.

"I don't know, uh—" He ran back into his room and checked, then zipped right back. "Helianthus Labs. Look, they're _giving them away,_ free clinical trials, I can just go _get_ one, I can be done, I can be—I can be _well—"_

Nano was scowling at her phone, typing furiously. Panda appealed to the others.

"It's only a four-hour drive, basically, it's not even far. Or—I guess we can't use planes, but—all I'd need is somebody to go with me and drive me back after, because the anesthetic—"

"I wish I could go with you," Lomadia said. "But we'll have a big party when you get back!"

"I also can't drive," said Lalna. "And I am not prepared to go out in public."

"Zylus could probably take you," said Rythian. "Or Nano."

"I'm not taking him to a scam," said Nano.

It was like being punched in the chest.

"A—a what?" said Panda, wheezing. The old familiar dread crept over him, the skepticism leaking back in where euphoria had briefly driven it off.

She put her phone down and looked up at him. _Pitying._ What a godawful thing _pity_ was.

"It can't possibly be legit, Panda," she said gently. "There's no papers published about this, no peer-review, nothing. If anybody had anything like this, we'd've heard about it _long_ before clinical trials. It's a scam. I'm sorry, love, but—"

"How can it _possibly_ be a scam if they're _giving_ them away?" he demanded, fists clenching, at least as angry at himself as he was at her. "That's stupid, that's fucking idiotic, what would they even be getting out of that?"

"Just because they're not looking to steal your money upfront doesn't mean they're _legit,"_ said Nano. "I don't know what they want, but I _do_ know that they're _not real._ I'm sorry, Panda, it's just the facts."

"You don't know. You _don't know!_ You have no fucking idea, you—just because, what, they're not plastered all over the headlines—"

"There's _nothing,_ Panda," she cut him off. "That's not how science works. That's not how _medicine_ works. Trust me, I've worked in the field for a long time. It's a horrific sort of a joke for anybody to play, but that's all it is. That's all it can possibly be."

He glared at her, too furious for words, then ran back into his room and slammed the door and stabbed his mattress until his arm gave out.

It wasn't _fair._ It wasn't _right._ They didn't understand, _none_ of them understood. How _dare_ they rip away this chance at a normal life, how dare they spit so casually upon the first fucking ray of hope he'd seen in seven _years?_ Nano had no idea what she was taking from him. She could take her pity and her apologies and her _science_ and stuff herself with them. If she wouldn't take him there, fine, Zylus would. Zylus would _have_ to understand. He _had_ to know how much it weighed on Panda, day after day after day, had to know how much this meant to him.

Even if it was a scam. Even _if._ He had to try. He had to see firsthand. There had been so many false rays of hope before, but this one was different, this one _had_ to be different. _Anything_ was better than this perpetual Sisyphean crawl through life, he'd almost rather _die—_

_You're all fucked up because you're high, Panda,_ he thought at himself, with the dreary resignation of habit.

He switched to his other hand and kept stabbing until that arm gave out, too.

* * *

 

The conversation with Zylus ended up being everything he hadn't hoped for.

"I think she'sh right," he said with a shrug, after Panda had spent ten full minutes pacing and venting and crying.

Panda stared at him, his ribs shrinking in on his lungs.

"You're not _serious,"_ he said.

"Shorry," said Zylus. "Lishten, I know it'sh hard for you. I know thish ish incredibly shitty and hard and frushtrating, and I know you had all your hopesh hung up on it, but . . . thish thing jusht ishn't aboveboard. It'sh not real."

"What do you even _mean,_ it's not real?"

"I mean it'sh too good to be true, Panda," said Zylus, tired. "There'sh going to be a catch. There'sh _alwaysh_ a catch. It'sh either money or it'sh malishe. It's not _real."_

"You don't _know_ that!" Panda burst out. He was going to start crying again, frustrated beyond coping, feeling stupid and desperate. "None of you _know_ that! You're just saying it because—because—"

"Becaushe we don't want you to get hurt," Zylus said softly.

_"You think this doesn't hurt?"_ he screamed, his voice cracking.

The silence rang, hollow as a bell. Panda was shaking, every needle stick and lancet prick stinging afresh, all the sleepless nights and dragging days weighing on his limbs, every high and low and near-death experience from the past seven years all burning like gasoline inside him.

"Okay," said Zylus. "We don't want you to die a shlow and agonizing death."

"Too late, it's already happening."

"For _fuck'sh—"_ Zylus began sharply, and cut himself off, pressing the back of his thumb to the bridge of his nose. He let out a slow breath. "Panda, the besht cashe schenario ish that it doeshn't work. That'sh the _besht_ cashe schenario, ish that you don't end up any worshe off than you are. The _worsht_ cashe schenario ish that they put shomething horrifically poishonoush in you and kill you much fashter and more painfully. Pleashe, for _onshe,_ jusht . . . don't. Jusht don't."

"I thought you'd understand," Panda said, bitter tears rolling down his cheek. "I thought you'd _help."_

"I _am_ helping," Zylus said.

"Go _fuck_ yourself," Panda spat. He stormed out of Zylus's room and back to his own, slamming both doors. He grabbed his shelves and heaved them over with a tremendous crash and clatter, scattering knives and nail polish all over the floor. His vision was still blurred with tears, his whole body hot and swollen and threatening to erupt like a volcano. He half expected lava to spill through his teeth instead of curses, smoke to pour roiling and black from his ears and nose and eyes.

By the time he simmered down enough to realize he was high, his blood sugar had spiked so far that Hadaly wouldn't even give him a number. He just about slit his throat right then and there, just so it would be _done with_ and he wouldn't have to deal with this unbearable frustration anymore. He couldn't stop crying and he hated it.

Still, the old habit of staying alive won out, although it felt like resignation, like quitting. He couldn't muster the energy to keep on breaking things and slamming doors, and his throat was much too dry for yelling. It was hard to stay violently furious when he kept having to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes, drinking like a fish. His vision didn't un-blur even when his tears dried up, and that keyed him up with a very different kind of energy. With shaking hands, he managed to get himself properly medicated, then settled in to be miserable for the next however many hours.

After one of those however-many, there was a quiet knock on his door.

"What?" he snapped, although there were no teeth in it.

"Panda, dear, are you all right?" Nilesy asked, his voice muffled through the door.

"No," Panda said shortly.

There was a pause. "Care for some company?" Nilesy offered.

Panda chewed his lip, then said, "Whatever, I don't care."

The door handle turned, and Nilesy slipped in, closing the door softly behind him.

He looked worse. Every time Panda saw him, he looked worse. The fact he was out of his room at all was frankly astounding, although the way he kept glancing over his shoulder had become routine. He stood just inside the threshold, twitchy and fidgeting, never looking directly at Panda. His bloodshot eyes flicked across the knives strewn all over the floor, the hundreds of new slits in the mattress.

"Good God, what's happened?" he asked, genuine concern peeking out through the clouds.

"Somebody's made an artificial pancreas and _nobody'll_ take me to get one," Panda said, dejected and exhausted, unwilling to waste any more energy than that on getting shot down _again._

"Fuck that!" Nilesy exclaimed. "Why not?"

Panda blinked at Nilesy, momentarily unbalanced. "I—I dunno, they think it's a scam. I guess they think it'll somehow make me _worse,_ like that's possible. They're probably fucking right, too."

"They can all skip on merrily to hell," said Nilesy, venomous. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think I want to be _fixed,"_ said Panda, a lump rising in his throat, tears pricking at his eye. He clenched his teeth and cleared his throat and folded his arms. "But whatever, I guess that's not an option."

Nilesy crossed the room and sat on Panda's bed next to him. He took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"When you've got your new pancreas," he said, "I'll take you out for pasta at that Sicilian place. The one with the really sarcastic waiters, you remember that one? Pasta bowls the size of your head?"

"Oh, _God,"_ said Panda. The tears slipped out. His chest was caving in with want, with a longing so powerful he thought it might swallow him up. To be _normal. . . ._

"And then we'll get you _roaring_ drunk, on whatever you like best, and—"

"Niles, just . . . wait," said Panda. He swallowed, squeezing Nilesy's hand. "What if . . . what if it's _not_ legit? What if they really _can't_ . . . cure me?"

Nilesy shrugged. "Then somebody else will. Sooner or later."

"What, in ten years?" Panda said acidly.

"If that's how long it takes," said Nilesy. "I'll set a reminder. Ten years from now: take Panda to dinner at that Sicilian place to celebrate his newfound health and wellness."

Panda finally cracked a smile. He nudged Nilesy with his shoulder, ducking his head. Nilesy kissed his knuckles again.

"And if they fuck you over," he said quietly, "I will personally tear them to the ground."

A shiver ran through Panda, not entirely pleasant. He had to take more time than he liked finding a response.

"Niles," he said.

"Yes, dear?"

He took a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

"No no, you don't get to change the subject, we're talking about you here," said Nilesy, a touch too quickly.

"Well, I'm done talking about me. I'm asking you to talk _to_ me."

"Nothing much to say, ahah," said Nilesy. He was shrinking away, retreating into himself, his expressions winding down to that vaguely miserable blankness.

"I'm _worried_ about you, Niles," Panda said. "We all are. Look, you came in here to check on me, I'm just . . . returning the favor. All right? Because I love you, and I can't pretend you're all right. So _please,_ will you let me help? Will you just . . . _talk_ to me?"

"We've been talking, dear, and it was lovely, but—" He started to get up. Panda tightened his hold on his hand. Nilesy jerked away violently, making Panda jump.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Nilesy looked away first. He bit his lip and tugged on his ponytail.

"It's just . . . dreams," said Nilesy. "I've been having some . . . ahah, crazy dreams. Lately. On the weekends. Isn't that odd? Only on the weekends. Ahah."

"What . . . _sort_ of dreams?" Panda pressed. He could feel his heartbeat in his palms.

"Oh, the usual," Nilesy said lightly. His hands were shaking. "Wouldn't worry about it too much, ahah. You've got plenty to worry about already, it sounds like. Where's this miracle lab of yours?"

"Niles—"

"Only, y'know, I'm sure they've got buses and all, could probably get there without having to—to depend on anyone for transport. Or—planes, could probably get a plane, matter of fact, provided you didn't take any knives, ahah—"

"I don't think that'd work, Niles," he said, giving up on getting Nilesy to divulge anything else. "I'd have to get to the airport or the bus station or whatever, nobody'd take me there, either."

"Well, if they didn't know where you were _going,"_ Nilesy said, a little of the old mischief in his voice.

Panda thought about this. It was a terrible feeling, hope, coupled with a steely determination forged in the fires of desperation. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew he was going to do it anyway.

"Niles," he said slowly. "Can you keep a secret?"

Nilesy just laughed. It was not an entirely sane sound.

* * *

 

Panda waited a week to do it, to cover his tracks properly. He had to come up with a good cover story, but he was pretty sure he had one. By the time he came to Nano with it, he'd rehearsed it so many times it almost felt true.

He knocked on her door late on a Monday evening. She answered it, tired but not unhappy.

"Hey," she said, frowning. "What's up?"

"Um," he said, fidgeting. "It's just, um . . . well, y'know, that biotech lab? With the fake cure?"

"Yes?" she said, apprehensive.

"Well . . . there's a big protest, sort of a thing. A bunch of other diabetics going out to . . . y'know, call them on their bullshit. Make sure nobody gets scammed. And . . . I'd like to go. I've already bought myself plane tickets and everything, I just need a ride to the airport, is all."

Nano blinked at him. _"Oh,"_ she said. "All right. D'you want anybody to come with you? Because I would _definitely_ be up for that, those bastards have it coming—"

"No, you've got work, I couldn't ask you to miss it," Panda said hurriedly. "It might be—y'know, a couple of days. The whole protest'll be longer, but I thought I might put in . . . a good bit of time. Because otherwise I'll probably just fucking . . . stab everyone _in_ the fucking place."

"Understandable," said Nano. She sighed. "Well, I'll help however I can. When's your flight?"

"Wednesday," said Panda. "I'm coming back Saturday morning."

"I could get you to the airport and back, sure," said Nano. "And, Panda? I um . . . this might sound really patronizing, and I'm sorry if it does, but . . . I'm really proud of you. I know it's hard, and I know you were really set on . . . well, buying into it, so I know it can't've been an easy decision to make. I just want you to know that I really do think it's the right one, and that you won't regret it. So . . . I'm proud. And if there's anything else I can do to help, let me know."

"I will," he said.


	22. Chapter 21

The second dream was so much easier than the first.

Once again, Nilesy seemed to wake in the night, disturbed by perceived movement in his room. He floated out of bed. The mask was sitting on his dresser, expressionless and empty and waiting. He fell into it without so much as a breath of protest, sinking without struggling. Its frigid waters closed over his head and within moments he was numb. Something else was using up all the feeling now.

He slipped out of his room, out the front door. He shut them both quietly behind him. The night was hot and quiet, too hot for crickets, too hot for humans.

The key to the car was on his keyring. The engine sputtered when it tried to start, but within moments he was off, the route easy and familiar. The lights of Vegas slowly choked out the stars, painted the interior of the car in shades of pink and gold. The university where Panda worked had plenty of free parking at night, where no one would notice an extra car or two, especially not at this hour.

It was a short walk to the Strip. Hardly anyone cast him a second glance, and even when they did, the sharpness of their eyes slid right off the mask without scoring any scratches. He smiled at them, because it amused him to watch them look away so hurriedly. Some of them were extremely drunk.

Under all the lights and the noise and the glamor, he was scarcely noticed at all. The mask, usually such a remarkable thing, seemed to blend into his skin. Nobody looked at him twice until he was sitting at the bar of a casino, surrounded by tobacco smoke and voices and the gaudy squalling of slot machines. He was only pretending to drink. He was pretending a great many things.

The woman sat down next to him. He smiled at her. She put an elbow on the bar and leaned her cheek on her fingers. She wore her age well, and knew it.

"Dying for a drink," she said.

"Fortunately, they've got lots of those here," he said, flippant. The words were silver on his tongue, and _God_ how he'd missed the taste.

She grinned. Her teeth were very white. "A lady never buys herself a drink."

"Oh, dear, was I supposed to think of you as a lady?" he said, feigning innocence. "I'm afraid that wasn't the first word that came to mind."

"And what _was?"_ she asked, raising a well-groomed eyebrow.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want to know," he said.

"I'm asking."

"How's _vixen?_ Fan of that?"

She laughed. "I lean more towards _cougar_ _,_ but I like your blatant flattery. Where're you from, stranger? Love the accent."

"Glasgow," he lied. "Perhaps you've heard of it."

"Never," she said, straight-faced.

"No? Where're you coming from, then?"

"The MGM Hotel," she said dryly.

"Never heard of it," said Nilesy. "You'll have to take me there someday."

"Oh, that was the plan," she said. There was smoke in her eyes, hunger in her grin. "But not before you buy me a drink. And maybe I'll give you a few, too, back at my place. We'll see about getting that mask off."

"Will we?" said Nilesy. "And what d'you plan to do with me, once you've removed the hard outer shell?"

She licked her lips. "Oh, honey, wouldn't you like to know," she said.

* * *

 

Her hotel room was large and neat, swanky. He took a brief moment to enjoy it. She was a little drunk, but less than she wanted him to believe. He could feel it in the pulsing of her blood.

"Sit anywhere," she called, retrieving bottles from the mini-fridge. "But preferably somewhere soft."

He did not sit down. She was rinsing out a pair of the glasses in the sink. He slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her neck. She sucked in a breath and lifted her head. Her hips shifted pleasantly.

"God, you don't fuck around," she breathed.

The water was pooling in the bottom of the sink. An inch deep, two inches, three.

"Mm, no," he said. "No, darling, I rather think I do."

She reached to turn off the sink. The water leapt out of the basin at a twitch of his fingers. He stepped away, forcing it into her nose, her mouth, down into her lungs. She tried to scream, but all she got was a gurgle. She clawed at her face, trying to pull the water off with her fingernails, but it was deep into her lungs now, filling her up, and she convulsed where she stood. She tried to come for him, tried to strike him, and he danced out of the reach of her arms, laughing. She fell to the floor, writhing in agony, silent and utterly _helpless._

He crouched down next to her, watching, the thrill of it making his blood sing. He smiled at her when she looked up at him in utter terror, utter agony.

"The struggling's always my _favorite_ bit," he purred.

Her eyes were coming unfocused, her struggles weakening. She'd gone blue in the face, swollen and cold. He watched her die, right there at his feet, her hands pressed to her throat, fire-engine nails bright against her skin.

Nilesy stood up. He reached out a hand. Slowly, the water began to trickle from her mouth and nose, to rise back up at his call. He was gentle, and careful, and patient. It was always easiest the first time.

She coughed herself alive again, gasping, shaking. She saw him still standing there and tried to get away. He let her run as far as she cared to, trapped like a mouse in the corner of the room.

"Now," he said, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Wasn't that _fun?"_

She sucked in a sharp breath to scream. With his off hand, he made a fist, clutched the blood in her with brutal force and slammed her back against the wall. All the air rushed out of her. When she inhaled again, there was only water to breathe, and the exquisite agony began anew. Nilesy's head was spinning with the rush of power, the sheer electric delight of this incredible dream.

"Let's go again, darling," he breathed. "Shall we?"

* * *

 

He woke in the morning and barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up. He could taste the single gin and tonic he'd had. He could smell her perfume on him.

_Real. Real. Real._

The mask was under his bed. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept right. Wouldn't someone have heard, if he'd snuck out? Wouldn't someone have known? Zylus, certainly, couldn't have missed it. Couldn't _possibly_ have missed it, even if Panda had slept through it, even if Lomadia had been away at work, even if nobody on the other side of the duplex had woken. He checked his keyring. Both sides of the duplex, his personal room, the mailbox key. Nothing for the car.

_Dreaming. Only dreaming. No harm in dreaming._

He sat down on his floor and bit his wrist until it bled. It was the only way he could keep breathing. It was the only way he could keep from doing something worse.

_Lean into it._

The panic attack came on worse than the weekend before, worse because he was alone and because he was expecting it and because there was nothing he could do. It didn't feel like de-stressing. It felt like being slowly crushed, like suffocating. He couldn't do this. He _wouldn't_ do this.

No. There would be no more dreaming. Zylus be damned, he'd fight his own brain if he felt like it.

* * *

 

Like clockwork, next weekend, the dream came again. The waking, the stirred air, the mask on his dresser. It pulled him like nothing else—that inimitable high, the silver on his tongue, the rush of power, the _freedom,_ just for a little while, just for pretend. . . .

"No," he whispered. His voice was small and broken, but he felt it, a real thing in this nightmare-dream.

The mask did not respond, did not shift, did not change. Nilesy got out of bed. Shaking so hard it made his teeth chatter, he picked it up, carefully, like a venomous thing. He put it back in its box. He put the box back under the bed.

He left his room and went to sleep on the couch.

He woke up on the couch.

* * *

 

The fourth weekend came. He could not sleep. He did not want to sleep. He stayed up as long as he could. Lomadia went to work. Panda was gone, headed off to California earlier in the week, not returning until tomorrow morning. Zylus laid off his drinking for once and locked himself in his room earlier than usual. Nano and Lalna and Rythian went to bed. Nilesy stayed up, not quite watching TV but at least pretending to. He dozed off once or twice and always woke in fear. The mask made no appearance. He checked over and over, every table, every corner. He pinched himself until he bruised, making sure he wasn't dreaming.

Somewhere around two in the morning, exhaustion got the better of him. His eyes were burning and he couldn't keep them open. His whole spine was a knotted mass of discomfort. He was so tired he couldn't possibly dream. He shuffled off to his room, yawning, and slipped inside. He shut the door quietly behind him and turned towards bed.

The mask was sitting on his dresser, watching him.

Nilesy leapt back, slamming into the wall hard enough to bruise his shoulders, terror oozing into his veins like poison.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head but unable to take his eyes off the mask. "No, no, no. . . ."

"It'sh time."

Nilesy jumped again, his head snapping around so fast he pulled something in his neck. Someone was standing in the corner of his room, arms folded, eyes bright in the streetlight glow spilling through the window. They were watching him, too, placid and clinical.

"Zylus?" Nilesy croaked, pressing himself against the wall as though he could become part of it, escape this hellish nightmare once and for all.

Zylus smiled indulgently and shook his head.

"No," he said. "But we've met before. Do you remember me, Liam?"

A hand on his throat. The smell of brine and blood. Water filling his lungs and bruises on his lips. There was only one thing in his head that called him _Liam._

"You _do_ remember me," Zylus said. He unfolded his arms and crossed the room. Nilesy tried again to push himself through the wall, half paralyzed with fear and shaking like china in an earthquake.

"No—" he gasped, and Zylus reached out and put a hand around his throat, just resting his fingers against the skin. All the breath rushed out of Nilesy and his knees went weak. Of its own accord, his head tipped back, his eyelids fluttering. Weakly, he reached up and took Zylus's wrist in one hand, his other palm still pressed to the wall.

"Shh," said Zylus. "You talk too much."

"Why. . . ." Nilesy whispered. He was having trouble focusing his eyes. "Why . . . him? Why his face?"

"Why not?" said Zylus, amused. He squeezed, just a little, and another whimper spilled over Nilesy's lips. His mind was full of steam and thunder, firework flashes muted by the fog. His heart pounded in his chest and his stomach was sick with dread.

Up against the wall, his free hand twitched. There was water in the walls, plumbing just a few feet to his right, he could feel it, and if he could just make this thing let _go—_

Zylus grabbed his wrist and slammed it against the wall.

"That'sh not going to work," he said. "I'm not real, remember? Don't go tearing up your houshe for no reashon, Liam, then they'll know exshactly how shick you are. I know you don't want that. It'sh time to go. You have work to do. Time to shtop being schared. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Nilesy stared up at him, breath coming short, the bones in his wrist smarting. The hands on him were warm, although he wasn't sure if the pulse he felt in them was his own. He could smell nutmeg and pine and just a whiff of alcohol. Zylus's eyes were bright in the darkness, not quite meeting Nilesy's unfocused gaze.

Nilesy drove his knee up as hard as he could between Zylus's legs.

With a wheeze, Zylus crumpled, relinquishing his hold on Nilesy and staggering back a step before he fell to his knees, blinking back tears.

Slowly, Nilesy peeled himself off the wall. Something frigid and lightless had opened up in him, filling his bones with ice, turning his blood to brine and crushing his heart beneath an abyssal pressure. He took a single step towards Zylus and watched him try to crawl away.

"Awfully tender for a hallucination," he said darkly, "aren't you, _Zylus?"_

"Nileshy—" Zylus croaked, looking up at him with watering eyes.

_"Fucking aren't you, Zylus!"_ Nilesy snarled, and kicked him in the stomach, and kicked him again and again until pain shot up through his foot and shin and he staggered back, and then he fell upon Zylus with his fists, pounding his face in while Zylus cried out in pain and fear, until someone grabbed him by the elbows and hauled him off, impossibly strong, and Zylus heaved himself to his feet and staggered to the far wall. He stared at Nilesy, one eye wide and one swollen shut, blood rolling down his face.

_"You did this!"_ Nilesy screamed, thrashing violently. The huge hands around his biceps were bruising his arms, his voice was cracked in three places and there were tears rolling down his face, sticking his hair to his cheeks as he struggled. _"You did this to me!"_

"You will hurt yourself," Lalna said quietly behind him. He kicked them in the shin, frantic and feral, sending more lances of pain up from his foot.

"Zylus, what the _fuck_ is going on?" Nano demanded, somewhere behind him.

_"I_ don't fucking know!" Zylus cried, staring at Nilesy in abject fear. "I jusht came in to check on him and he went fucking nutsh!"

"You liar," Nilesy hissed. "You fucking _liar!_ Let me go, let—me— _go—"_

"No," said Lalna. "You will hurt him again."

_"Let me go!"_ His shoulders were burning, his hands going numb, he'd pulled something in his back but he didn't care, couldn't care, because Zylus was standing there wiping the blood off his face, shivering like a cornered rat, and he wasn't _crazy,_ he _knew_ he wasn't crazy, it was all _real_ and it didn't make any sense but that didn't matter because it was _happening._

"Jesus _Christ,_ Nilesy, calm down," Nano said.

"He's been _fucking_ with me," Nilesy snarled, his voice cracking again. He kept struggling, as though somehow he'd be able to break Lalna's grip. "For _weeks,_ he's been _fucking_ with me, it's his fault, it's _his fucking fault,_ he did it on purpose, he _made_ me—he _made_ me—"

"What the fuckare you _talking_ about, Nileshy?" Zylus said, sounding baffled and hurt.

_"Fucking liar!"_ Nilesy screamed, kicking Lalna in the shins again. He could feel Zylus's body across the room, all the water in it, and he grabbed at it with all the Power in him, clumsy and imprecise, but he saw Zylus jerk with surprise, press himself against the wall and go pale under the rising bruises and the blood on his face.

"You tell them the fucking truth," Nilesy uttered, his blood freezing like rime on his bones, turning him cold and pale and misshapen. "You tell them what the fuck you did or I'll have your fucking arms off."

"Nilesy, stop it," Nano snapped.

"Is this what you wanted, Zylus?" Nilesy asked. Zylus's figure was swimming before his eyes, blurred, his heart was pounding and there was a roaring in his ears. Something tugged at the corner of his mouth, trying to pull it into a smile. "You wanted to make me a fucking killer, well _guess who the fuck is next,_ you lying bastard, guess who the fuck is going to die toni—"

One of his arms was released and in the same instant there was a huge arm across his neck, his throat cradled in the crook of its elbow while the meat of it pinched off all the blood flow to his head, and he clawed at it, kicking his feet helplessly while his head swelled and his tongue went thick and useless. The roaring in his ears swallowed him up, and darkness came swarming in around him like a cloud of insects.

He blacked out.

* * *

 

Nilesy came to slowly, his head splitting and his mouth full of cotton. Weakly, he tried to reach up and touch his aching neck, but something arrested his movements. Cloth had been tied tightly around his wrists, and that had been tied to something else, and he couldn't lift his arms more than an inch off his bed.

His heart stuttered in panic, and he pried his eyes open, lifted his spinning head and looked down at himself.

Someone had tied him to his bed, wrists and ankles, his hands by his hips and his feet near the end of the bed. There was blood on his knuckles and the fourth toe of his right foot was swollen and purple and throbbing with pain. He couldn't sit up, dizzy and nauseous. He yanked at the restraints again, but they did not yield. He couldn't get out, he was stuck here, they'd trapped him here, and he kept struggling but he wasn't getting anywhere. He had to get out, he had to get _out,_ he couldn't stay here waiting for them to come back, God only knew what they'd do to him, they'd tied him down and he _couldn't get out couldn't get out couldn't—_

"Nilesy," someone said softly. A pair of hands touched his shoulders. "You will hurt yourself."

He couldn't stop struggling, couldn't process the sound of the voice. His whimpers were turning to screams, tears were spilling out of his eyes, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see, he couldn't get loose, they were going to come _back_ they were going to bring the needles and the pills, his wrists and ankles were raw, the walls were going white and he could smell antiseptic and brine—

* * *

 

"Why is he restrained?" Dad asked. He didn't sound worried. Liam lay still, just remembering to breathe. As long as he kept breathing, he would be okay. He just had to remember to breathe. His body was shivering of its own accord, he couldn't stop that, but if he didn't struggle maybe they would let him sit up for a little while again. . . .

"Ey bet off a nurse's fenger," Paul answered, his words wooly with his thick Scottish accent. "Wey were tryna get 'em to take 'es medicine and ey got vylent alluva sudden. Fough' li' a wyld theng, ey ded."

"Yes," Dad said dryly. "I know the condition."

"Whey, then ye know why we've got 'em restrained," said Paul.

"Is he sedated?"

"No ser," said Paul. "Ey's jus' ben li' tha' fer close on a dey now. Willnae talk nor move nor et."

"Then why is he still restrained?" Dad asked.

"No tellin' when ey's gonna star' up agen," said Paul, scratching his mountain-man beard. "Ey ded thes coupla days back, too. Dunno wha' cuts 'em on an' off, but soon's we let 'em up ey was goin' at it agen. Ben 'avin' to drug 'em up jus' to get 'em to et proper."

Liam's shoulder prickled. He focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. When they gave him the injections he got so tired and distant he couldn't even move his hands, and they had to prop him up and feed him with a spoon, and he was screaming inside his head but no one could hear him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sky. He could smell the ocean always, see it in the rust on the beds and the window bars, but he hadn't laid eyes on it in ages. He hadn't gotten out of bed in so long his legs were weak and thin. They wouldn't let him. There were sores on his shoulders and heels. He could still taste blood and flesh on his tongue.

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe.

"I can't imagine that's good for him in the long term," Dad said, frowning. "I understand there's a need for safety, but honestly I'd prefer him _not_ to wind up with brain damage. It's unlikely it would be beneficial, although I'm beginning to suspect that his little issue stems from _somewhere_ in there. I'd like to talk with him, if I may."

"Whey, ye can try," said Paul. "Ey willnae answer."

"I think I'll take my chances, thank you," said Dad. He came over and sat at Liam's side. He brushed the hair off Liam's face, just like he used to do at home when it was bedtime. Tears sprang to Liam's eyes and his nose started running.

In. Out. Breathe. Don't think about home. You can't go home.

"Hello, Liam," Dad said softly. "It's Dad."

Liam sniffled and gulped. Breathe. Breathe. Don't forget how to breathe. As soon as you forget how to breathe the fear comes back and you can't stop and they put the needles in you again. . . .

"How are you feeling, Liam?" Dad asked.

Liam squeezed his eyes shut. He could still feel Dad looking at him, and Paul, too. He tried to find his voice, push it up from deep inside him and force it out his lips, but he forgot to breathe and his arm jerked hard against the restraints and all he got was a whimper. Between the scabs and the blisters it was impossible to move his arms without it hurting.

"Shh, shh," Dad said, stroking his hair. "It's all right, Liam. It's just me. No one's going to hurt you. I'm here. I'm right here."

Dad kept talking, saying the same things over and over, and Liam focused on breathing and eventually the shaking receded like a tide going out, lapping at him in waves before retreating entirely. He didn't have to think so much about breathing, then, and he could open his eyes a little, even if he couldn't focus them.

"There you are," Dad murmured. "See, Liam? It's all right."

"D . . . Dad?" he managed, mouse-small and hoarse. Now that the shaking had stopped, his voice could find its way out easier.

"That's right!" said Dad, smiling at him. "I understand it's been a difficult week for you, Liam."

"I want—" Liam said, his arms moving themselves weakly. "Out—outside. Dad? I want—I want—"

"Shh, it's all _right,_ Liam," Dad said. He put his hands on Liam's arms and stopped them struggling. "We'll go outside, if that's what you want." He turned his head. "Paul, please get these restraints off him."

"Ser—" Paul began.

"Nurse," Dad said, his voice sharp and cold. "You will release my son this _instant."_

"Yes, ser," Paul sighed.

Liam started shaking again. He couldn't remember how to breathe. One canvas strap came loose and his arm shot off like it was going to escape on its own, and its thrashing carried the rest of his body with it. Paul leapt back, but Dad only took his wrist and kissed the back of his hand, held him gently until the thrashing stopped and Liam could breathe again.

"There, there," he murmured. "It's all right. Easy, Liam. Dad's here, you'll be all right."

The rest of the straps came off, and though he couldn't keep himself from struggling, Dad held him through it until his body calmed down again. He helped him up, half-carried him through the white corridors because his legs wouldn't hold him.

It was raining, because it was always raining. There was green on the ground, and mud under his bare feet, and his breath misted in the air in front of him and the sea crashed against the rocks like a giant's sleeping breath, and he made it about two steps out into the rain before he shattered, sobbing.

Dad sat with him in the mud while he cried, until they were both soaked to the skin and shivering.

"It's all right, Liam," he murmured, over and over, an arm around his thin and shaking shoulders. "It's all right."

* * *

 

"Hey, okay, good, that's good, there you are," someone was saying. It wasn't Dad's— _Xephos's_ voice, but he recognized it.

Slowly, the room started coming back into focus. Someone was looking down at him, dark skin and a bright pink eyepatch. There were hands on his face, hot and calloused and smelling of cocoa butter. His wrists and ankles were burning, needling with pain. His whole body was sore and shaking, his throat and tongue dry.

"Hey Niles," Panda said. "You here?"

"Panda?" he croaked. His arm tugged on its binding of its own accord. "Panda, I can't—I can't—"

"Shh, no no, don't start that again," Panda said hurriedly. He put a hand on Nilesy's arm until it stopped twitching. "It's okay, you're okay, stay with me, all right?"

"Please—I can't— _please—"_ He couldn't breathe. His eyes wouldn't focus.

_"Nilesy,_ c'mon, don't do this again, stay with me. You're all right, it's all okay. Nobody's going to hurt you. Breathe, lover, just breathe, okay?"

He tried, but there wasn't enough air in the room. Panda kept talking to him, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs, petting his hair and helping him hold down his struggling limbs. It took some time—he had no idea how much—but eventually the tide of shaking went out and he was able to breathe again. Some clarity returned to him, and although the fear was still gnawing at every part of him, he managed to think past it.

"How . . . how long've I. . . ?" he said, taking in every detail of Panda's face as though he might never see it again.

"Like, twelve hours," said Panda. "I just got back from the airport. Nano drove me. She told me what happened."

"Could you . . . could you tell _me,_ then?" Nilesy asked, his voice quavering and thin. He tried to smile, but his face wasn't having it. The shaking was coming back.

"Shh, it's okay," Panda said, stroking Nilesy's hair. "I'll tell you what she told me, but nobody's really sure, not even Zy."

_Lies,_ something in him snarled, and his stomach filled with icy water. It took another few minutes for him to make it back from there, cast adrift on fear and guilt and bitter hatred. When his vision came back into focus, Panda was dabbing at his wrist with a damp cloth, talking softly to himself. Nilesy tried to sit up, and Panda was with him in an instant, a hand on his back and one on his arm.

"Okay, all right, there you are," he said, when Nilesy was upright. "You good? You all right?"

"What . . . happened?" he asked. There was a version of things in his head, but it was horrific, nightmarish, and he couldn't bring himself to believe it, no matter how real it seemed. Lots of things happened in his head that weren't real, it wasn't too far-fetched to hope this might be one of them.

"Well," Panda sighed. "Um. Where to start, okay. . . . I guess, well, for the past, like, month, you've been . . . um. Sneaking off on the weekends. To . . . um. Well. To kill people. Two—we think there's been at least two. People. That you've . . . yeah."

Nilesy nodded. All the feeling had gone out of him, leaving him hollow and numb. That much he had known. The fact that the others now knew went a long way towards explaining why he was restrained. He didn't blame them.

"And . . . God, Niles, I dunno, something fucking weird is going on with you and Zy," Panda went on. "You . . . apparently you were like . . . saying it was his fault? That he . . . did something to you, or something, I dunno, Nano didn't really seem to get it either and Zy doesn't want to talk about it, which, I get, yeah? She said you got sort of . . . violent. And you were looking like you might hurt Zy—well, I mean, like, hurt him worse, 'cause you did sort of . . . beat the shit out of him, um. . . ."

Nilesy swallowed, keeping his eyes down. He was shaking again in earnest now. His knuckles were throbbing, his broken toe radiating pain through his whole foot.

"So . . . so that's kind of why they've got you . . . like this," Panda finished. "Apparently you've been sort of . . . in and out, since Lalna . . . well, I guess they put a bit of a sleeper hold on you. Lom was in before me, and Rythian before her, and I guess Lalna before that, but Nano said nobody could get anything out of you. You've either been, like, practically catatonic or . . . or tearing yourself to shreds trying to get loose. Zy's actually . . . Zy's actually gone and got himself a hotel room 'cause he said he couldn't take it and he didn't want to be here in case you did, y'know, come back round and decide you still wanted to kill him."

Nilesy couldn't respond. The air had gone out of the room again. He could feel blood seeping into the restraint on his left wrist, thick and warm and sticky. He could feel the water in the walls, gushing about its business unhurried and unconcerned.

He desperately wanted to drown himself in it, just for a moment's peace.

"Niles?" Panda said, peering at him. "Nilesy, hey, don't go, it's okay."

He shook his head, and a pair of tears slid down his cheeks. If he could just get to a bathtub, just for a few minutes, he could be okay again, he could wash the shaking out of him and clear the fog out of his head. He tried to move, but he was still tied to the bed, and the weak and cursory tugs he gave at his restraints did nothing to loosen them.

"No no, don't start that again, please," Panda said. He took Nilesy's face in his hands and practically climbed into his lap to look into his eyes. "Hang on, Niles, it's okay."

"I want—" he mumbled, his tugs growing more earnest. "I want—I want—"

"Okay, okay! Hey, easy, what d'you want?"

He tried to answer, but his voice had slid down inside him and his insides were all slippery with fear and he couldn't find any leverage to pull it back up. All he could do was shake his head and cry, gasping for breath while his struggling built momentum on its own, while Panda's voice faded into a storm-sea roaring and the walls started to go white. . . .


	23. Chapter 22

Watching Nilesy fall back into his own head was like watching someone drown. Panda tried his damnedest to keep him present, speaking to him urgently, touching his face and his arms, but despite it all Nilesy just ended up thrashing violently against his restraints, unreachable. Panda did his best to hold him down to minimize the damage he did to himself, and eventually Nilesy stilled. He stared up at the ceiling, lying on his back and breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused, shivering. Slowly, Panda sat back in his chair at Nilesy's bedside and tried to massage the soreness out of his hands.

"I'm sorry, Niles," he said quietly, although it was vanishingly unlikely that Nilesy could hear him. "I'm so sorry."

Another hour passed in relative calm, although it was no relief. Every so often Nilesy's eyes would twitch, as though he was watching a film, and sometimes his breath would catch. His right hand was opening and closing slowly, rhythmically. He seemed to be trying to match his breathing to it, with limited success.

Eventually, though, some clarity returned to his gaze, and he stirred. Panda was at his side in an instant, cupping his face in his hands.

"Niles?" he said. "Hey, Niles, it's me, I'm here. Come on, come back, it's okay, you're okay—"

"Panda?" Nilesy croaked, looking over at him, confused and breathless.

"Yeah! Yeah, it's me, you're home, in—in Vegas, we're in the house in Vegas, it's—it's August eighth, you've been—"

"I can't—" Nilesy said, tugging sharply at the restraint on his left arm. "I can't—Panda, please, I can't—"

They went through the same song and dance again, Panda trying desperately to calm Nilesy, who was half-present at best. This time, however, Nilesy would not be calmed. Tears were running down his face, and his breath was coming short and sharp, and nothing Panda said or did seemed to stop his struggling.

"Niles, please," he begged, feeling powerless and unutterably wicked. "It's okay, just—calm down, please—"

Nilesy made a noise of helpless frustration and thumped his head back against the pillow, as though trying to bang it on a harder surface. He stopped struggling, quite suddenly, although none of the tension went out of his limbs—like he had simply given up.

"That's—that's better, it's okay, there, see, it's okay," Panda said, the words sour. Nilesy didn't respond, just lay there weeping and whimpering with his eyes squeezed shut. Slowly, Panda sat back in his chair and hugged himself, sick to his stomach. Nilesy was struggling for breath, his face screwed up with pain.

"God, Niles, I'm sorry," Panda whispered. "I'm so sorry, I never—"

"Why're you _doing_ this to me?" Nilesy gasped, twisting his wrists against the restraints. Panda turned away, too sick with himself to breathe.

"Because—because you've been _killing_ people, Niles," he said, the words hoarse and hollow. "And we can't—we _can't_ let you keep on doing it. If—if there was some other way to—to make sure you didn't, y'know. _Do_ that, I mean, if there was _any_ other way, we'd—"

Nilesy was still whimpering, his whole body trembling. His skin was sheened with sweat, his face wet with tears. Panda went on, because he didn't know what else to do.

"Maybe—I dunno, maybe if you could, like, start . . . taking meds?" he suggested, a foul taste on his tongue.

Nilesy stilled, his eyes coming open, his breathing deepening and slowing. His body, tense and shivering, slowly relaxed.

"I—I know you hate it, and I know it's horrible," Panda said, leaning in towards him, "but . . . but it'd just be for a bit, maybe, while you—while we got you real _help,_ so this doesn't happen again—"

_"Panda_ darling," Nilesy said sweetly, turning his head and grinning up at him. Panda shrank back, breaking out in gooseflesh. Nilesy shifted on the bed, stretching like a cat. "I've no idea why everyone's making such a fuss over this. _Especially_ you. You'd think you've got enough blood on your hands to understand."

"Nilesy," Panda said carefully.

Nilesy laughed. The tears were still wet on his face. "Not quite," he said. "But you can leave a message if you like."

Panda gulped. Something at the base of his skull was screaming at him to run. His leg twitched, but he managed to stay in place.

"Okay," he said, his voice thin. "Then . . . who . . . _are_ you?"

"Who knows?" Nilesy said brightly. He propped himself up on his elbows, languorous and smiling. "The others haven't bothered to give me a name yet. I think they're still hoping I'll go away. Which really isn't _at all_ fair, Nilesy got named the day he turned up, and I've been about for years now. I'm partial to _Vee._ D'you like it? Go on, be honest."

"It's . . . nice," said Panda, his skin crawling, his thoughts failing to cohere. Nilesy was giving him flagrant bedroom eyes, lounging in his bed as though being tied to it was a delicious treat. He grinned and there was something unhinged in the expression.

_"Vee._ I like that, let's go with that." He tipped his head to the side, resting it on his own shoulder. "Could I have a glass of water, Panda darling? _Dying_ for a drink."

"No," Panda said sharply, his spine and shoulders tightening. Nilesy's eyes glittered, cold and dead and gemlike.

"Are you _frightened_ of me, Panda?" he asked softly.

"N-no—"

"Are you scared I'm going to hurt you with a little old glass of water?"

"No!"

"Because, darling, just so you know. . . ."

There was a gurgling sound, ominous and surrounding. Panda leapt out of his chair, terror driving him to speed, his hand clenching on the knife in his belt, his heart pounding. Nilesy reclined on the bed, watching him placidly while the gurgle became a rumble and metal groaned in the walls.

As suddenly as it had begun, it all stopped with a last discontented glug. Nilesy grinned.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it _ages_ ago," he purred. He brightened again. "Could I have that glass of water, now?"

"I'm . . . not getting you anything," Panda managed. His head was spinning, and his fingers had gone numb.

"So you're going to leave me here to die of dehydration, is that it?" said Nilesy. "Because if so, I'm just going to rip your lovely plumbing out of the walls and help myself."

Panda ground his teeth, then relented.

"Be right back," he grumbled.

"It's true, about Zylus," Nilesy said, just before he got to the door. Panda froze. "Nilesy thinks he hallucinated the whole thing, but I know better. Zylus _wanted_ this. He wanted _me._ No idea why, and I'm not saying I'm not _grateful,_ ahah, but. He planned it start to finish. Even stayed up to bring me down easy when I got home, to keep any of you from cottoning on."

"He did _not,"_ said Panda, sick to his stomach.

"Oh, it must've been _torture,"_ Nilesy said with relish. "But he brought it on himself. Deserved every _second_ of it. It's no wonder he's been drinking himself to death. I've tried to treat him well, but there's just no pleasing some people."

"You're a fucking liar," Panda spat.

"People always say that," Nilesy mused, "yet I can't recall a single instance where it's been true."

"If you want your stupid fucking water, then shut up."

_"Very_ fair-minded of you, darling, that's not tyrannical at all."

Panda stormed out before the impulse to punch Nilesy in the mouth became overwhelming. He slammed the door behind him and stalked into the main room, his eyes down and his fists clenched.

"Panda?" Nano said, half rising from her seat.

Panda couldn't respond, choked up with anger and disgust and fear.

"What happened?" Lomadia demanded. "Is Nilesy all right?"

_"That's_ not Nilesy," Panda said thickly. He threw himself onto the couch and stabbed the cushions a few times, just to get the impulse out before he hurt somebody.

"What d'you mean, _that's not Nilesy?"_ Lomadia said, indignant. "That doesn't make any sense."

"There's three," Rythian said quietly. "That's what he told me. There's Liam, there's Nilesy, and there's the other one."

"It's the _other_ one," said Panda, torn between disgust and fear. "Calling itself _Vee_ or some fucking bollocks."

"Please don't do that," Lalna said. "Calling people _it_ is not appropriate."

"It's not _people,_ it's some—fucking—I don't _know_ what it is, but it's _not_ Nilesy!"

"Of course it's Nilesy," said Lomadia. "It's not like somebody else got in his head and is making him do things. It's just his brain being weird."

"Fine!" Panda snapped. _"You_ go in and talk to him then! I'm sure with your magic fucking touch you'll have him back to fucking normal in no time! Because _everybody knows_ he likes you best!"

_"Hey,"_ Nano cut in. "Lay off. Panda, what happened?"

He clenched his teeth, biting back more harsh words.

"He . . . changed," he said. "I was talking about . . . him maybe taking meds, and he just—it was like somebody flipped a switch, and he was saying all these— _horrible_ things about Zy, and—and he was fucking with the plumbing, you _must've_ heard it, he was practically pulling the walls down—"

Nano and Rythian looked at each other. Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"I heard that," said Lomadia. "I didn't know it was Nilesy. Why was he messing with stuff?"

"I don't know, to scare the shit out of me?" Panda said. "He—it was like he thought it was _funny,_ it was horrible."

"Was he doing the voice?" Lomadia asked.

"What voice?" said Panda.

"The voice. You know. When he's got the mask on. The voice."

"Yeah," Panda said slowly. "Yeah, he was. Why?"

She shrugged her wings, shifting on the back of the couch. "He goes all funny sometimes. We should untie him, he'll get better."

"No _way,"_ said Nano. Rythian shook his head emphatically. "No _way_ am I letting him out. Christ, you saw what he did to Zylus!"

"Keeping him tied up isn't going to stop him from hurting us," said Lomadia.

"He . . . did sort of point that out to me," Panda mumbled.

"It's just going to mess up his head worse," Lomadia went on. "He doesn't like it. Every time he wakes up, he tries to get loose. I can hear him through the walls."

"We can't take the risk," said Nano. "What if he gets out, what if he kills somebody else? He's already killed _at least_ two people, we're already in such fucking hot water it's a wonder we haven't all boiled alive! We haven't got a _choice,_ unless it's between having him arrested and having him _committed."_

"No," Panda snapped, his hand clenching on the hilt of his knife. Lomadia stood up on the back of the couch, her wings flaring out wide, her face hard.

"Oh, _come_ on!" Nano cried, exasperated. "How long are you two going to keep this up? For God's sake, he's _murdered two people!_ He's not a victim, he's not a child, he's a fucking monster, and—"

"You're not the good guy," Lomadia interrupted, her voice deep and strong. Nano pulled up short.

"I'm what?" she said.

"You're _not_ the good guy," Lomadia repeated. "You don't get to hurt him just because he's done bad things."

"That's not what this is _about!"_

"I think that's _exactly_ what this is about," Panda said, standing slowly. "Lom's right, you're not some hero. And you don't get to call Niles a monster. Not _ever."_

"How many people has he murdered?" Nano demanded. "Sum total, how many people has he killed because nobody had the fucking guts to do the right thing and _put him away?"_

"How many people have _you_ killed?" Panda retorted.

"None! It's not that hard!"

_"How_ long did you work for YogLabs?" Rythian asked quietly.

Nano rounded on him, white smoke curling from the collar of her shirt, a slimy sheen to her skin.

"Don't _even,"_ she snarled. "Don't _even_ tell me you're siding with _them."_

"How many people did you send to YogLabs prison?" Rythian pressed, hands clenched on the arms of his chair. "How many of them ever came back out?"

"This is fucking _ridiculous,_ you're all equating murder with—with—"

"Torture _and_ murder?" Panda supplied sweetly. "Just because you weren't there for it doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"I didn't know!" Nano burst out, flinging her arms up in exasperation. "I didn't _know_ what they were doing to people down there!"

_"It was your responsibility to know!"_ Panda snarled, flinging his knife down into the floor. It stuck, point-down, with a musical hum.

"I was just doing my job," Nano said through clenched teeth. "And as soon as I _did_ find out what was going on, _I stopped doing it._ I got out and I did everything in my power to break the system. _He—"_ she gestured sharply towards the corridor and Nilesy's room— "knows damn well what he's doing, and he knows damn well that it's wrong, and he keeps on doing it anyway!"

"Oh, and you think locking him up is going to _help?"_ Panda said.

"I think it's going to keep him from hurting anyone else!"

"It won't," Rythian said.

"Stay the fuck out of this," Nano growled at him.

"I believe Rythian is correct," Lalna said, sheepish. "Nilesy is extremely powerful. Anyone who attempted to detain him without his consent would likely be severely injured or killed. Unless his Powers are neutralized, he will be able to hurt people. Even if he agreed to be imprisoned or committed to a mental institution, it would only change the subset of people whom he is able to hurt."

"Then what the fuck do _you_ suggest we do?" Nano said. "Because I'm running pretty fucking low on ideas!"

Lalna shrugged. "Determining the cause of Nilesy's dissociative episodes might enable us to prevent them from occurring. Currently, evidence suggests that restraining him is causing multiple successive episodes to occur, possibly as a result of his post-traumatic stress disorder."

"I'm _not_ letting him out," Nano said.

"Maybe you're not going to get a say in it," Panda said. "Maybe I'll go cut him loose right the fuck now, and you won't be able to stop me."

"I believe it would be better if we could reach a compromise," Lalna said, their voice mousy.

"Oh, _shut_ up," Panda said, rolling his eyes. Rythian shot to his feet and a huge spark cracked off his clenched fist to earth in the floor.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to them like that," he said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.

Panda whipped another knife out. "You wanna fucking do this, sparky? You wanna fucking _go?"_

Grimly, Rythian extended a hand, palm-out. The silhouette of his hand was garishly familiar, the same shape that was printed in scar-tissue over Nilesy's heart.

"Come get me," he said.

"Stop it," Lomadia ordered. "Both of you, stop it. You're being stupid. This is stupid."

"This," Rythian said, "is a long time coming, isn't it, Panda."

"I'm going to carve you like a fucking pumpkin," Panda spat.

"Oh for _God's_ sake," Nano muttered. "Where's Zylus when you need him? _Listen,_ both of you. The _last_ thing we need right now is more fucking _bodies,_ so if you could both put your dicks away and behave like rational human beings for five seconds, we could _start_ to work out what to do about the serial killer in our house!"

Slowly, Rythian lowered his hand, sullen and glowering. Panda jammed his knife back into its sheath.

"Wonderful!" said Nano, exasperated. "Rythian, go take a walk or something. Panda, go check your blood sugar before you explode."

"I haven't got to," Panda snapped. He heard the words echo in his ears, and all the fire went out of him. He shut his eye and wrinkled his nose in a slow, protracted wince.

"Why not?" Lomadia asked.

"You _didn't,"_ Nano said slowly, horrified.

Panda shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound. . . .

"Long story short," he said, "I did." And he pulled his shirt up to reveal the fresh stitches on his abdomen, the pink and puckered incision just under his sternum.

"Oh, Christ," said Rythian.

"And it _works,"_ Panda said, glaring at Nano. There was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, and all the defiance he'd wanted to put into the statement had somehow withered from the inside, leaving it hollow. Nano stared at him, her eyes wide, her jaw clenched.

"You . . . fucking _idiot,"_ she said at last. "You fucking _idiotic,_ irresponsible, childish— _liar!_ You little fucking _liar!"_

"Oh, fuck off!" Panda retorted. A tear jostled loose and slid down his cheek. "Like you wouldn't jump at the _first_ fucking chance to stop throwing up blood!"

"Wait, what?" said Rythian. "You're not still—"

"I'm going to fucking _kill_ you," Nano hissed.

"You're still sick?" Lomadia said. "You're not still sick, are you? Nano? Is that why you've been so mean and angry all the time?"

"Fuck _all_ of you," Nano said. "Just . . . fuck _all_ of you. I'm done! I'm done. I'm fucking done with this, and with you, and with all your stupid bullshit! Panda, enjoy your stupid fucking pancreas, and I hope to God it doesn't kill you so I don't have to dump all my _I-told-you-so_ _'_ _s_ at your fucking graveside."

"Where are you going?" Lalna asked, frowning.

"Out! Away from all of you! Leave me the fuck alone!"

And with that, she stormed out, letting the door swing shut on its own weight.

After a moment, Lalna said, "I will go stay with Nilesy."

They got up and shuffled to his room. No one stopped them or said anything until that door, too, had swung shut. Rythian sidled out, not looking at Panda or Lomadia. When he had gone, there was a long silence.

"So you're better now?" Lomadia asked at last. "They fixed you?"

"Yeah," said Panda. There was no joy in him, only a deep exhaustion. "I've been checking my blood sugar every hour for like, two days. It's fine. Everything's fine. I'm . . . okay. It works."

"I'm really glad," said Lomadia. "I'm glad you don't have to be sick all the time anymore."

"I'm . . . sure I'll get round to enjoying it, eventually," Panda said heavily. "When everything's less . . . fucking nightmarish."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "It'll be all right soon."

"Lom? If I . . . if Nano won't let Nilesy loose. Will you . . . _would_ you help me get him away from here? Away from _her."_

"For how long?" said Lomadia, frowning.

"For . . . forever, Lom. Just . . . you and me and Zy and Nilesy. Like the old days. And Nano and Rythian and Lal can find their own way."

"I can't _leave_ Nano!" said Lomadia, sounding alarmed. "We're going to get married, and I'm going to wear pretty dresses, and—"

"And what about Niles?" Panda demanded. "Are you just going to abandon him? Like every other fucking person he's ever loved? Are you just going to let her lock him up like a—like a fucking _animal?"_

"No! I don't—I can't leave him, either! You can't make me choose! You _can't_ make me choose!"

"Hate to fucking say it, Lom, but I'm pretty sure you're going to have to," he said. "So if I were you, I'd start really _thinking_ about where my loyalties lie."

"It's not fair. It's not fair, we're not—we can't split up. We can't. We'll get Zylus to fix it, he'll fix it so nobody has to go away."

"Some things can't _be_ fixed, Lom," Panda said, and his voice cracked unexpectedly and tears spilled over onto his cheek and he had to turn away, biting his lip.

"We've got to try," said Lomadia, small and childish and stupidly hopeful.

Wordless, Panda went to her and threw his arms around her. She stiffened in surprise, just for a moment, then hugged him back, folding her wings around the two of them.

"When did everything get so bad, Lom?" he asked, his voice soft and fragile.

"I dunno," said Lomadia. "Probably, like, a couple months ago. It was okay up 'til lately."

Panda snorted and shook his head. "I thought everything would be better, when I got back," he admitted. "I thought I could go and get cured and when I got back it would all be . . . easier. Because I wouldn't have to worry about the stupid fucking sickness anymore. No insulin or counting carbs or stupid math or . . . anything. And it would make everything easier. And . . . stuff _is_ easier, but it's also just— _worse._ Everything's gone to hell and I feel like it's my fault because I wasn't here. I wasn't here to stop it."

"It's okay," said Lomadia, patting his back. "We were all here while Nilesy was sneaking out and drowning people. Except me, because I was at work. But people being here didn't stop it, so it doesn't really matter."

He sighed. "I just . . . I don't know how we're going to fix this. Or even just . . . get out of it. It's really bad, Lom. We . . . we're really in a lot of trouble."

"Not yet," said Lomadia.

"Yeah, okay," he allowed. "Not yet."

They stood in companionable silence for some time, until the heat of Lomadia's body started to get stifling. Panda sniffled and stepped back, and she let him go, folding her wings back behind her.

"Y'know," he said, "Niles promised he'd take me out to that Sicilian place, once I got my new pancreas. So I could eat a shitload of pasta and not have to worry about it fucking me up."

"Aw," said Lomadia. "That's really sweet."

"Yeah," said Panda. "I . . . really hope we get to do that. Someday. When . . . when _he's_ better. And it's really selfish, but . . . I guess that's just how it is."

"You'll get to go," said Lomadia. "It'll be okay."'

"I hope so," Panda said quietly. "I really, _really_ hope so."


	24. Chapter 23

Nano was so angry she was burning through her clothes. The desert heat was making her head spin and her insides cook, and she barely made it five minutes before she had to sit down on the side of the road in the sparse shade of a stunted tree. The dry dirt sizzled under her hands, and she could smell the telltale stench of dissolving fabric. She'd have to head back soon or else she'd end up stuck out here in tatters and rags.

With a protracted, grit-toothed groan, she put her head in her hands. Everything had fallen apart, all at once and with a surgical precision. She felt like she was standing on top of a condemned building and the demolition charges had just gone off. She was in no way equipped to handle this situation, and _certainly_ not when everyone else was _deliberately_ making things more difficult. She had a hand full of splinters and she was supposed to make something sturdy out of them.

Only the splinters were on fire. And her hand was on fire. And everything was on fire because this was _hell._

She had to remind herself to breathe. It was hard, between the rasp-throated heat and the smell. Before anything could be done, she decided, she had to calm down. More and more often, recently, she'd found herself burning through things when she had no intention of doing so—her clothes, her wallet, her shoes, even the steering wheel of the car all bore scars from acid damage. She tried to convince herself it was the stress making her overreact, but some niggling part of her brain was absolutely convinced that there was something _wrong._

Despite what Panda had said, she hadn't had an episode of internal bleeding—that she knew about, at least—in the past month. Whatever had been causing it seemed to have quieted down, despite the fact that she'd already gone and gotten Dr. Fischer's whole host of tests done. No one had contacted her with results yet, and at this point she almost hoped they didn't. If no one told her that there was something seriously wrong with her, she could go on pretending that whatever it was had just been an isolated incident.

On the other hand, if the tests _did_ come back and confirmed that there really _was_ nothing seriously wrong with her, that would be even worse. That would mean that whatever was wrong was undetectable and, therefore, _unfixable._

Nano pulled herself back, taking a deep breath. This was no time to go falling into her own head. She forced herself to stand up and walk back home, keeping her eyes straight ahead, counting her steps to prevent her mind from wandering off on more dire tangents.

Once she'd gotten back home, she ducked into the shower to rinse the slime off. The shower drain was corroded all to hell from having undergone this treatment far too many times, but the water at least prevented her from dissolving everything she touched. She kept it as cold as it would come, partially to help her cool off after the blistering heat outside and partially to shock herself back into a more useful frame of mind.

The first thing she did when she got out of the shower was call Zylus. The phone rang out to the answering machine.

_"Hello, you've reached Richard van Laanen. I'm not available at the moment, but if you leave your number I'll get back to you whenever I can."_

"All that convoluted shit, just to avoid lisping on tape," Nano muttered to herself, shaking her head. The answering machine beeped in her ear, and she cleared her throat.

"Hey, it's me," she said. "Listen, things've got pretty fucking tense back here, and we could _really_ use a mediator. I know you don't feel terribly comfortable with . . . any of it, but seriously, they're practically at each other's throats and I haven't got the knack of getting them to lay off. Just give me a call back when you can and we'll see about . . . well, trying to get things safe enough for you to step in for a bit. Um. I—I really hope you're all right. And if you're not, just . . . let me know, and I'll do whatever I can to help. Please call me back. Soon. Um. All right, bye, talk to you later."

She hung up. After a moment's thought, she sent him a text, too.

_Hey. Could really use your help back home. Everybody losing their shit and I can't make them lay off. Help?_

Nano had just stuck the phone in her pocket when it buzzed and she had to pull it out again.

_Non can do, sorr_ _y_ _._ _I'm be_ _No help ri_ _gh_ _t now an_ _yway_ _, haha_

_Are you drunk?_ she replied. It was just past two p.m.

_4 lik_ _e_ _1_ _2_ _our_ _s s_ _trait_ _haha  I wish I was dead haha_

Nano stared down at her phone, feeling her stomach drop yet further. The building was collapsing much quicker than she'd expected.

_Jesus Christ, do you need me to come get you?_

A minute passed, then two.

_Hey, you still there?_ she asked. Her fingers had started to shake.

_No don_ _'_ _t'_   _come_ _I'_ _m fine  Will be home as so_ _o_ _n as so_ _ber_ _haha m_ _ay_ _t_ _A_ _ke a very long time sor_ _ry_

_If you're sure,_ she said, frowning.

_Yes_ _cherry_ _su_ _e_ _r_ _e_ _don'_ _t_ _'_ _come._ _conv_ _ersation is over now go_ _o_ _dbye :-)_

Worrying her lip between her teeth, Nano stuck her phone back in her pocket.

"For fuck's sake," she said softly.

* * *

 

Washed and dressed and with some tea and lunch in her, Nano gathered her wits and her courage and went back over to the lefthand side of the duplex. No one was out in the front room, so she sidled her way into the corridor and up to Nilesy's door. She knocked quietly, hoping Lalna was still in there.

"Lal?" she said, keeping her voice down. "It's me. Can you come out and talk for a bit?"

After a moment, the door opened and Lalna slipped out. They shut the door behind them and turned to Nano, ticking their thumbs together.

"How um . . . how is he?" Nano asked.

"He has been very quiet," said Lalna. "He has not spoken since I've been here."

"That's . . . good?" she guessed. "Better that than violent, I s'pose."

Lalna nodded. "I am very worried about him. He has not had anything to eat or drink in over fifteen hours. Our current course of action is unsustainable without causing significant permanent harm to him."

"Lal, listen, I know it's unpleasant for everyone, but—"

"We are killing him, Nano," they said quietly. Nano swallowed and looked away, folding her arms.

"It won't get that bad, Lal," she said.

"No," said Lalna, with absolute certainty. "I will not allow it to."

Nano fidgeted, sick to her stomach. "I'm—I'll take over for you, if you want. Looking after him. I'll see if I can get him to come round long enough to drink something, or whatever."

"Okay," said Lalna. "If for any reason you are unsuccessful, I will gladly take over. I know you dislike physical contact with him, but I don't mind, so I will be happy to assist him in eating and drinking if necessary. It would be simpler if we could untie him."

"We'll see, Lal," said Nano. "We'll—we'll see."

"Okay," Lalna said again. They moved off into the main room, the floor creaking under their weight. With a deep breath, Nano stepped into Nilesy's room.

It was dim, and there was a smell of blood. As the door shut behind her, a kind of stuffy silence fell. Nilesy lay on his back, his breathing slow and steady, his eyes open and staring. He did not move as she entered, did not so much as acknowledge her existence.

"So which one are _you?"_ she asked, flippant despite the slimy guilt in her stomach.

There was no answer. Slowly, one of his hands clenched, then unclenched again. Nano shifted her weight, glancing at the door. She had a momentary flash of memory—square white cells, unflinching fluorescent light, cow-eyed prisoners and unsettling quiet. She wet her lips and pushed the image from her mind.

"Right," she said. "Okay. Process of elimination, I guess. Nilesy, you in there?"

He did not move. Nano sighed.

"Didn't really think so," she said. "I don't think you're the _other one,_ so . . . Liam?"

Still, there was no response. Grinding her teeth, Nano rolled her eyes.

"Well—"

Slowly, Nilesy nodded.

Nano froze. She blinked at Nilesy, turned her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Liam?" she said again, and again, after a moment, he nodded.

Nano edged up to the bed. "Um," she said, looking him over, "okay. Well, it's good to . . . meet you. I guess."

He didn't respond. Again, his hand opened and closed, like the slow valve-swelling breath of a deep-sea creature.

"O- _kay,"_ said Nano, distinctly uncomfortable. "Is there . . . anything I can get you?"

This time, his breathing shortened, a thin line appeared between his eyebrows. His jaw clenched, and after a moment, his lips parted.

"Some . . . s'mthing. Drink. P . . . please." His voice was hoarse, quiet, and there was something off about his accent.

"Oh," said Nano. "Um, yeah, I can . . . I can probably do that. I'll . . . be right back. With that. For you. Is—is juice okay?"

Nilesy didn't answer, but tears sprung up in his eyes and he swallowed heavily, like his mouth was watering. Nano hurried out, her stomach in knots. She returned a minute later with one of Panda's juice boxes. Nilesy was still lying there, although he raised his head when she came in.

"Okay, I—I guess—" she began, fidgeting. "I guess I'll just—oh, fuck it, this is stupid."

She crossed the room and sat on the side of his bed. He tried to sit up, but seemed unable. In the end, she helped him up, then stuck the straw in the juice box.

He jerked against one restraint with the snapping sound of a flag in the breeze. Nano was off the bed in an instant, her heart racing and her body tense. Nilesy froze, watching her. He looked at the juice box, and then at his own hand. He jerked on the restraint again, then looked back at her. She sighed, and settled herself back onto the edge of the bed.

"Not just now," she said. "We'll have to make do."

She held the juice box up for him, and he dropped his eyes. He leaned forward and took the straw into his mouth, then drained the whole box in one go, growing more desperate with every swallow, leaning forward and sucking in gasps of air through his nose. When she pulled the empty box away he tried to follow it, whimpering.

"All right, all right, easy—" she began.

"Please," he gasped, and now she could hear more clearly what was wrong with his voice. His Scottish accent had vanished, replaced by something clipped and proper and English, something that was terribly familiar. "I want—I want to go outside. Please? I'll—I'll be good, I won't do anything, I just—I want—please—"

"Oh, God," Nano said to herself, while he struggled weakly and turned appealing eyes on her. Something had crumpled in her chest like a paper ball, flimsy and crinkled. She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut, crushing the empty juice box in her fist.

"Please," Nilesy begged. "Please, miss, I'll be good, I promise, I just want to go out, just for a bit, then you can put me right back—"

Nano flung the juice box on the floor and turned, jerking at the knot around Nilesy's left wrist. His voice cut out like a trimmed recording, and he started shaking. She fumbled, her vision clouding with tears as she looked down on the blisters and scabs on Nilesy's wrist, as she jerked at the too-tight knot until it came loose.

Nilesy yanked his hand back, cradling it to his chest and shrinking away from Nano, every breath a whimper. She moved on to his left ankle, and she could see him clawing at the bond on his other wrist, and by the time she had his leg loose he was trying to shrink away into the corner like a coyote with its foot caught in a trap, and she had a hell of a time getting him free. When she did, he scuttled back into the corner and curled up all his limbs to his chest, crying and panting and shivering. Nano sat and watched him, sick to her stomach.

Eventually, he uncurled himself, making for the edge of the bed, glancing at her with every inch of movement. She did not go to him until he tried to stand, because he was shaking too hard to take a step. She stood near him and let him loop an arm around her shoulder, then helped him limp out into the corridor, through the front room, out into the blazing sun and the blistering heat.

Nilesy sat down on the doorstep and sobbed like a child. Nano sat down with him and cursed herself for a monster.

* * *

 

Eventually, she managed to get him to come back inside. It was mostly the heat, combined with offers of cold water and perhaps something to eat. She settled him on the couch and left Lalna to look after him while she scrounged for something that wouldn't be too hard on his stomach. Nilesy was silent throughout the whole thing, keeping his eyes down and his hands clasped, small and mousy and very pale. There was blood on his wrists and his ankles and Nano couldn't bring herself to look at him for too long. She brought him a large glass of water and some dry toast and sat in one of the armchairs and put her head in her hands, sick to her stomach. Nilesy—or should she be calling him Liam?— scarfed down his toast like it would be taken away from him and drank his water so fast he choked on it.

When the glass was empty, he very carefully nudged Lalna with it, glancing between the kitchen and the glass. Lalna tipped their head to the side.

"I don't understand," they said.

"He wants another glass of water, Lal," Nano said heavily. There was a deep exhaustion upon her, guilt and fear vying for pride of place in her tangled guts.

"I see," said Lalna. Gingerly, they took the empty glass from Nilesy/Liam and tip-toed to the kitchen. Nano watched them go, then mustered her courage and spoke.

"Um," she said. "Liam?"

He didn't answer. Nano risked a glance at him. His hands were clasped in his lap, his eyes fixed on them, jaw clenched. Nano swallowed and went on.

"What . . . _happened_ to—"

"Liam's dead," Nilesy said sharply, suddenly, barely moving. The Scottish accent was back, and there was a trembling tension in his arms.

Lalna came back in with the glass of water. Nilesy accepted it from them without raising his eyes, without speaking. Lalna sat down on the couch near him.

"I'm sorry," Nano said, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

"You had goddamn well better be," said Nilesy.

* * *

 

Everyone else received a reception from Nilesy that was equally cold. He wouldn't let anyone touch him, would not look at any of them, would not speak more than about ten words together. Panda and Lomadia both seemed wounded by this treatment, although only Lomadia objected aloud. Nilesy didn't respond to her, and she left in a huff. Panda had locked himself in his room. Rythian hadn't even attempted to make amends.

Nano refused to leave Nilesy on his own, no matter how angry it made him. He slept on the couch that night, a clean blanket draped over him, a throw pillow under his head. Lalna stayed with him, sitting up in one of the armchairs in a low-power mode that wasn't quite the same as sleep. If Nilesy got up during the night, they assured Nano, they would be able to stop him from leaving the house. Nano opened the window in his room to let it air out, to get out the smell of blood and sweat.

Although she slept in her own bed, she went back over to the lefthand side first thing in the morning. Lacking anything better to do, she made breakfast for everyone with a little help from Lalna. Nilesy was still asleep on the couch, curled up with his back to the room at large. Lomadia, apparently, had come back at some point during the night or early morning, and was coaxed from her room by the smell of blueberry pancakes. She settled at the table and watched Nano and Lalna work, uncharacteristically quiet.

As Nano handed her a plate of pancakes, Nano's phone buzzed. She took it out to find a text from Zylus.

_On my way home,_ it said. _What's the situation?_

"Hang on a sec, it's Zylus," said Nano. She thumbed out a quick reply.

_Complicated. Can I call you?_

He replied, _Do you have to?_

_I_ _t_ _would be easier for me,_ she said.

_Fine,_ he said.

"Be right back," Nano told Lomadia and Lalna, and stepped outside to make the call, so as to avoid waking Nilesy. Even in the shade of the doorway, the heat was oppressive, the sunlight blinding. She could barely see the screen of her phone to pull up Zylus's contact. He picked up on the fourth ring.

_"Hi,"_ he said. He sounded hoarse and groggy.

"Hey," said Nano. "Thing's've um . . . maybe changed a bit since I last texted you."

_"Good changed, or bad changed?"_

"Hard to say," she said. "I've um . . . I've let Nilesy loose. He was—lucid. Ish. At the time. He's not pleased with us, to say the least, but he hasn't hurt anybody, and anyway, we all decided it was sort of . . . pointless. His Powers being what they are."

_"Noted,"_ said Zylus. _"How'sh everyone elshe?"_

"Better than I expected?" Nano guessed. "At the very least they've laid off each other. For the time being. We um . . . we were really missing you, for a bit. I don't know _how_ you do it. Rythian and Panda were just about ready to kill each other."

_"They do that,"_ Zylus said dryly. _"And you?"_

"I'm . . . all right," said Nano.

_"You can tell me or I can find out,"_ said Zylus. _"Your choishe."_

"That's not much of a fucking choice," said Nano, bristling.

_"Shorry. I shpent the pasht hour throwing up and I feel like I got hit by a truck._ _I'm shaving my_ _energy_ _for convinshing Nileshy not to fucking kill me when I get there._ _"_

"Jesus, what the hell were you drinking?" she asked.

_"Everything,"_ said Zylus. _"Sherioushly._ _Are you_ _really_ _all right_ _?"_

Nano heaved a sigh. "To be honest with you, I'm—frustrated. With myself. I shouldn't have let him loose. Now I've done it I can't very well put him back, because he'll rip my arms off, but—I don't know. It was a stupid decision and I wish I hadn't done it."

_"Sho why did you?"_

"Because I felt _sorry_ for him," Nano said. "He was—it was pathetic, honestly. I couldn't take it."

_"_ _Empathy makesh everybody do shtupid thingsh shometimesh_ _,"_ said Zylus. _"_ _Don't beat yourshelf up about it._ _I'll be there in about twenty minutesh. It'll probably help if you let Nileshy know I'm on my way. And the more people we can have in the room when I get there, the better."_

"Gotcha," said Nano. "I think he's sleeping right now, but I can wake him up."

_"Thanksh,"_ said Zylus. _"Shee you in twenty minutesh."_

"Zylus," she said hurriedly, before he hung up. "Did you—did you know? About Panda."

_"What about Panda?"_

"Him going and getting that scam surgery."

There was a long silence.

_"No,"_ Zylus said. _"I misshed that one. Ish he . . . all right?"_

"Apparently," said Nano. "Seems like it works. Which is the biggest surprise of this year, I'll tell you what."

_"No kidding,"_ said Zylus, sounding faint.

"How'd you miss that one, then?"

_"There'sh been a lot going on,"_ said Zylus. _"Shee you shoon. Bye."_

He hung up before she could say anything else. Shaking her head, she put her phone back in her pocket and returned to the sanctuary of the air-conditioned indoors.

"Zylus is on his way back," she announced. Nilesy stirred slightly on the couch, but did not seem to wake.

"Oh, good," said Lomadia. She was already halfway through her pancakes.

"I guess," said Nano. "Lal, would you mind collecting Panda and Rythian? Zylus said he'd be more comfortable with more people in the room, just in case."

"Okay," said Lalna. They moved off towards Panda's room.

"These are really good," Lomadia said, gesturing to the pancakes.

"Thanks, sweetheart," said Nano. After a moment's uncomfortable fidgeting, she sat down across from Lomadia. "Um. It—it sort of seems like I've been doing this a lot lately, but . . . for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"For what?" said Lomadia.

"For . . . I guess for being sort of horrible to you. And . . . to Nilesy. I guess I didn't really understand how bad it was until I saw it up close. I'm not sure it was the right decision, to—y'know, let him loose, but I'm pretty sure it was wrong to keep him tied up."

Lomadia shrugged. "Everybody helped. Nobody else untied him, I mean. So it's not _much_ more your fault than anybody else's."

Nano was quiet for a time. She went and got herself a couple of pancakes, although she wasn't terribly hungry. Lyndon turned up from somewhere and started circling the table like a shark, perhaps hoping to prey upon unguarded pancakes.

"Lom," Nano said at last. "Did you mean it? About . . . me not being the good guy?"

"Well, yeah," said Lomadia. "None of us are the good guys. We do bad things like kill people, so we're the bad guys."

"That's . . . at least _sort of_ comforting," said Nano. "In a fucked-up way. I mean, at least it's not just _me."_

"You _were_ being extra awful," said Lomadia. Nano winced.

"I guess," she said. "Lom?"

"Hm?"

"If we're the bad guys, who are the good guys?"

Lomadia frowned at the last bite of her pancakes, deep in thought. Lyndon hopped up onto the table and Nano cursorily shoved him back off again.

"I dunno," Lomadia said. "I'm not sure there _are_ any good guys."

Nano snorted. "Isn't that just life," she muttered. "D'you think, maybe, if we could all stop killing people, we could _make ourselves_ the good guys?"

"Maybe," Lomadia allowed. "You and Zylus and Lalna and maybe Rythian could. Maybe I could, but I dunno."

"Not Panda?"

"Panda wouldn't like being a good guy," Lomadia said, her nose wrinkling.

The aforementioned Panda came shuffling into the kitchen, yawning.

"You're right, I wouldn't," he said. "Are there any pancakes left?"

"No, but I could make you some," said Nano, half getting out of her chair. Panda waved a hand at her.

"'S fine, I'll do it," he said. "When's Zy getting here?"

Nano glanced at the clock. "In about fifteen minutes?" she said.

"Super," said Panda. He busied himself making pancakes. When Lalna returned with Rythian a couple of minutes later, he took all five of the pancakes he'd made and left Rythian to fend for himself.

"Has um," said Rythian, glancing between the dwindling bowl of batter and the main room. "Has anybody asked Nilesy if he wants any?"

There was a brief moment of silence.

"I will ask," Lalna offered.

"Thank you," said Nano. Lalna moved off into the other room. The rest of them made stilted conversation until Lalna returned a minute later.

"He doesn't want pancakes," they said. They clasped their hands and started ticking their thumbs together. "I also told him that Zylus is on the way."

"And um," Nano said, "how did he . . . take that?"

They shrugged. Lyndon came out from under the table and wound around their legs. "It's difficult to tell. He didn't respond."

"Right," Nano sighed. "Well, Rythian, you can go ahead and use up the rest of the batter, I s'pose. Unless you want to save it for Zylus."

"I'll—no, I don't . . . it's just that, um, I don't think I can really. . . ." He gestured vaguely to the stovetop.

"Oh, right," said Nano. "Metal and electronics and all that. It's fine, I'll make your pancakes."

"You don't have to," he said hurriedly.

"Go sit down," she instructed.

A few minutes later, as she was setting Rythian's pancakes down in front of him, her phone buzzed.

"That's probably Zylus," she said. Sure enough, there was a message from him.

_Just parked. On my way in._

She responded, _See you in a sec,_ then quietly ushered everyone into the main room. Nilesy was sitting up on the couch, eyes forward, expressionless. His hands were clasped neatly in his lap, red blisters and scabs ringing his wrists like bracelets.

"Nilesy?" said Nano. "Um. Zylus has just got back. He's on his way in right now."

His only response was that his hands tightened on each other. Nano was about to say something else when the door opened and Zylus stepped in.

His hair was mussed, his skin sallow, his shoulders slumped. His face and arms were mottled with dark bruises, one of his eyes still partially swollen shut, his lip split and scabbed. If he was half as hungover as he looked, it was a wonder he was even upright. Nilesy leapt to his feet as Zylus entered, still expressionless but with the posture of a hunted animal. Zylus took one look at him and dropped his bag on the spot, his face contorting in pain.

"Oh, Jeshush _Chrisht,"_ he said, and crossed the room quickly to fling his arms around Nilesy like he hadn't seen him in years. Nilesy went stiff, his arms at his sides, his back ramrod-straight.

"I'm shorry," Zylus murmured. "I'm shorry, I shouldn't have left."

Still Nilesy said nothing, but he was now blinking back tears. He swallowed heavily. Zylus squeezed him and whispered something.

Slowly, Nilesy put his arms around Zylus and buried his face in his shoulder.

"Well," said Nano, intensely uncomfortable. "That went better than expected."


	25. Chapter 24

The next few days passed in a strange and awkward haze. Nano called in sick to work with claims of the flu, paranoid about the repercussions for Nilesy's killings despite the fact that the last actual incident, so far as she could tell, had been over two weeks ago. Once she had all that time to herself, however, she started to _actually_ feel ill. She wasn't sure if it was the stress or if it was real, but she was starting to consider calling the diagnostics lab for her test results, just in case there was something _fixable_ wrong with her.

Nilesy was largely absent, spending most of his time apparently in Zylus's room. Lalna took over looking after Lyndon, not wanting the cat to go neglected despite the withdrawal of its primary caretaker. Nilesy spoke to almost no one but Zylus, and when he did, was brief and guarded. This was such a reversal from the way things had been before that Nano started to wonder what, exactly, Zylus had done to so thoroughly win Nilesy's favor. Moreover, she wondered if he'd be willing to share the secret, at least so Lomadia wouldn't be so unhappy all the time. Panda was taking it even worse, having no second partner to go to for comfort. All of them were walking on eggshells, some out of guilt and some out of fear, perhaps including Nilesy.

In the end, Nano's curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to just _find out_ what the hell Zylus had done, because honestly it had all gotten a bit ridiculous. The stress had given her a permanent knot in her back, just beneath her left shoulder blade. She hoped, perhaps vainly, that if she could at the very least get Nilesy back on speaking terms with Lomadia, she might be able to go some distance towards relaxing.

She made her way over to the lefthand side, which had become much less popular of a hangout lately. Panda was off at work, but Lomadia was most likely asleep in her room, so Nano tried to move quietly. She went to Zylus's door and knocked, praying that Nilesy wasn't in there. She listened at the door, attentive.

_"It'sh Nano,"_ she heard Zylus murmur, gentle. _"She'sh not here for you."_

Nilesy mumbled something in reply. Nano heard bedsprings creak, then the door opened and Zylus slipped out, shutting the door again quickly behind him. She caught a glimpse of Nilesy, lying on Zylus's bed with his arms cradled against his chest.

Before she could say anything, Zylus tipped his head towards the main room and beckoned for her to follow. She did so, and to her surprise, he led her all the way out onto the front doorstep.

"I know what thish ish about," he said, shutting the exterior door, "and I don't want him to hear it. He sheemsh to have come back around to the idea that my involvement wash moshtly hallushinatory, but there'sh no telling how long _that'll_ lasht."

It was hot outside, but not totally unbearable yet. The sun shone out blinding from a cloudless blue sky. The murmur of the suburb around them had not yet faded into the midday silence. Nano folded her arms.

"Right, so if you know what I'm going to ask, why don't you just answer?"

Zylus shook his head. "There'sh a lot going on up there," he said, gesturing to Nano's forehead. "It'sh eashier if you shay it sho I don't have to guessh what the mosht important part ish." He paused, and added in a thin attempt at levity, "I could probably help out with that knot in your back, if you wanted."

Nano rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable. "Don't do that," she said. "Don't—don't _know_ things about my body. Or at least _pretend_ you don't."

"Shorry," said Zylus. "I'm jusht . . . prolonging the inevitable. Ashk."

She tried to figure out the best way to phrase the question, and eventually gave up and just spit it out in its bluntest form.

"How did you _do_ it?" she asked. "Four days ago he was trying to kill you, and now he won't even _talk_ to anyone else but you. What did you say to him?"

Zylus didn't answer. There was a look of sickly shame on his face. A clammy hand clenched on the bottom of Nano's stomach.

"Zylus," she said. "What did you _do?"_

"I told him it washn't my idea," Zylus mumbled, not looking at her, his shoulders hunched. Nano stared at him.

"So you _lied_ to him," she said, fury rising hot under her skin.

"He would've _killed_ me, Nano!" Zylus retorted. "You _shaw_ what he wash like, you _know_ what he wash going to do to me! I didn't have a _choishe!"_

"Really? So who'd you pin it on, then? Which one of us did you blame?"

"None of you!" Zylus exclaimed. "I didn't—I haven't blamed anyone. He _wantsh_ shomeone to blame, he _needsh_ it, and I can't. . . . It'sh jusht how hish mind worksh. He did it with Xephosh, too. Almosht _all_ of hish problemsh were YogLabsh' fault, but he pinned them all on Xephosh becaushe it wash shimple. Becaushe it wash _eash_ _y._ You shaw how _that_ ended. There wash already sho much bad blood between him and me, and if I'd told him the _truth?_ The _lasht_ thing I want ish to make thish shimple and eashy for him. The lasht thing I want ish . . . for _me_ to end that way."

"So what, now you just throw the rest of us under the bus while you reap the benefits?" she demanded. She could smell her clothes burning and couldn't bring herself to even begin to care.

"You think I _enjoy_ thish?" Zylus snarled, his voice cracking with emotion. "You think thish ish _fun?_ I am in an _untenable_ fucking shituation. If he findsh out I lied to him, on top of everything elshe I put him through, _he will fucking kill me."_

"Then maybe you shouldn't have lied to him!" Nano snapped.

"What choishe did I have? What other fucking option _wash_ there? Jeshush _Chrisht,_ after all the shit I've gone through to keep you people shafe—"

He broke off so suddenly it was like he'd been punched in the throat.

"Keep us _safe?"_ Nano said, sick to her stomach. "From what?"

Zylus said nothing, but his eyes flicked to the door.

"From _him?"_ Nano said, incredulous and angry.

Still, Zylus didn't answer, staring at the ground with his fists clenched and his eyes rimmed in red. It dawned on Nano slowly, horribly.

"You knew he was killing people," she said softly. "You _knew,_ and you didn't do a fucking thing about it."

"Shomeone wash alwaysh going to die, Nano," he croaked. "All I could do wash make sure it washn't any of ush."

"You couldn't have asked for _help?"_

"What would you have done?" he asked, helpless and hurt. "He would have killed anyone who tried to shtop him. I—I _did_ try. And you can shee where it got me."

He gestured vaguely to himself, to the deep purple bruises on his face and arms. Nano half-turned away, unable to look at him any longer.

"How many?" she asked, unable to vocalize the whole question and trusting that he would understand what she meant nonetheless.

"Jusht two," said Zylus.

"Oh, _just_ two, is that all?" she said acidly.

"It could have been worshe," Zylus said, his voice heavy with certainty.

Nano was silent for a time, chewing her lip. An idea had occurred to her, but it was a horrendously bad one.

"If it was . . . someone else," she said at last. "Whose idea it'd been to . . . y'know. Tie him up. Would he—would he kill them, too?"

"Do you undershtand what you're shuggeshting here?" he said sharply.

"Yes, I fucking _do._ Don't patronize me, and answer the fucking question," she snapped.

He folded his arms and swallowed, licking his lips.

"I don't know," he said. "He'sh—God, Nano, he'sh sho far gone, I can't—I can't predict how he'sh going to react to mosht thingsh. I know _I_ wouldn't . . . shurvive. Between the—the _torture_ I put him through, and the liesh, and . . . everything elshe. There'sh no way."

"But if it was somebody else," she said.

"It . . . might work," he said. "It dependsh on who."

"Let's say, for the sake of argument, me."

"You can't," he said immediately, panicked. "No, Nano, you _can't._ Let Lom, or Panda, or—or fuck, _Lalna,_ jusht—"

"I'm not going to put this on anybody else," she said. "I'm not going to put _anybody_ else in harm's way for the sake of my own safety. _Unlike_ you."

He winced, looking pained and sick, but did not try to defend himself.

"I will take this fall for you," Nano said quietly. "But it's the only time. I'm not covering for your lies ever again. D'you understand me?"

"Yesh," he whispered, hoarse.

"Good. And if this gets me killed? I will haunt the _shit_ out of you."

"I'll . . . do whatever I can to make sure that doeshn't happen," Zylus mumbled.

"Goddamn right you will," said Nano. "Now go back in there and _fix this."_

Zylus ducked his head and slunk back inside. Nano sat down on the doorstep and put her head in her hands.

"I'm a fucking _idiot,"_ she muttered to herself.

* * *

 

By the time she went back inside, Zylus and Nilesy were out in the main room. They were sitting on the couch together, not looking at each other. Nilesy had his hand resting, palm-up, on Zylus's thigh, and Zylus was absently running his thumb over Nilesy's scabbed and blistered wrist. Something about the gesture made the hairs at the back of Nano's neck stand on end. Carefully, she came in and sat in the nearer armchair, although she had to remove Lyndon from it first. The cat stalked away, mightily offended.

There was a moment of intensely uncomfortable silence.

"Nano?" Zylus prompted. "Do you have shomething to shay?"

With a sigh, Nano ran a hand back over her hair. Nilesy was not looking at her. His face was utterly expressionless. She shot a barbed glance at Zylus and then launched into her fabricated apology.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry that we put you through this and I'm sorry we didn't stop it sooner. I didn't know it would be so . . . traumatic for you. And I'm sorry. All right?"

Nilesy said nothing, made no move. Zylus leaned away from him slightly, the nearer eye scrunching up like an intense heat had started coming off of Nilesy's body. He laid his fingers over the wounds on Nilesy's wrist and held them there.

"I . . . I'm sorry I didn't let you out sooner," Nano said softly, more sincerely. "I should have listened to Panda and Lomadia when they told me it was hurting you."

"Yes," Nilesy said, very quietly. "You should have."

Nano shrank into herself, feeling sick and guilty and unaccountably angry.

"Nileshy—" Zylus said.

"Shut the fuck up," Nilesy snapped, going suddenly tense. He still was not looking at either of them, had not raised his head or eyes.

"All right, okay, let's—let's not do anything rash," Nano said, her heart in her throat. Unbidden, the image of Xephos's last seconds flashed through her mind—the white-faced terror, the horrible _ripping_ sound, the explosion of blood and tissue. She saw Zylus go green around the gills as he cast a desperate look at her.

_"Rash?"_ Nilesy said. "What, you mean like fucking _torturing_ someone for sixteen fucking hours, _that_ sort of _rash?"_

"I'm _sorry,"_ Nano said. "We didn't _know,_ Nilesy. I know you're angry, but hurting people isn't going to fix this!"

"Who said _anything_ about _fixing?"_ he asked darkly, his hand clenching into a fist.

"Nileshy," Zylus said again, gentler. He squeezed Nilesy's wrist. "Don't go back there. You can deal with thish yourshelf."

Suddenly, Nilesy wrenched his arm out of Zylus's grasp and leapt to his feet.

"Get your fucking hands off me," he snarled. Nano jumped up out of her chair on instinct alone, acid bubbling to her skin. Nilesy's head snapped around at the movement, and he tensed as though preparing to flee. In the kitchen, something gurgled ominously. Slowly, Zylus rose as well, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Okay," he said. "Nobody'sh going to hurt you, Nileshy."

"Not fucking again," Nilesy uttered, trembling where he stood.

Down the corridor, a door opened. Rubbing at her eyes, Lomadia came into the main room, talons clicking on the hardwood floor.

"What's going on?" she asked. She took in the scene, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"And where the fuck were _you?"_ Nilesy demanded, rounding on her. Lomadia pulled back, her wings fluffing up in surprise.

"Oy, leave off!" Nano said, bristling. "This isn't her fault!"

"It's _all_ your fucking faults," Nilesy returned. "Every last fucking one of you _left me there,_ just fucking sat there and _watched._ Did you think I couldn't _tell?_ Did you think I wouldn't _remember?"_

"Nileshy, pleashe, thish ishn't—"

"One more fucking _word,"_ Nilesy threatened, holding up a hand.

Silence fell. Nilesy's jaw worked as he ground his teeth. Nano was certain she was going to vomit any second now, so scared she could barely keep her knees underneath her.

"D'you know," Nilesy said softly. "I'm not even surprised. You're not even the first family I've had that's locked me up and tortured me."

"We didn't mean to," Lomadia said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "We're really really sorry, Nilesy. _I'm_ really really so—"

Mid-word, Lomadia was flung sideways across the room, impacting against the far wall and sticking there as if by gravity. Zylus yelped, and then he, too, was struck by an invisible hand of force and pinned to the opposite wall.

"Nilesy, what the _fuck?"_ Nano cried. Nilesy whipped around to stare at her, horrified.

"I'm not—" he said, and then he was yanked backwards as if by a rope and slammed into the wall hard enough to crack it. Nano heard all the air go out of him. Panic clutched her in sweaty hands and refused to let go.

_"Fuck,"_ Zylus gasped, his face scrunched up with pain. "Fuck, _fuck—"_

Whatever it was snatched Nano up and threw her against the wall next to Lomadia, pinning her there with irresistible force. She struggled, silent and panicking. Something was digging into her back, just beneath her left shoulder blade. She couldn't breathe. Her blood wasn't flowing right, pooling at her back like it was the thing holding her up.

There was a rattle, and then the front door opened. Nano had just drawn breath to cry out for help when, instead of Rythian or Lalna or Panda, a stranger stepped into the room.

He was light-skinned, dark-haired, tall and lanky. He looked around at all of them with a self-satisfied expression, coming to stand in the middle of the room. There was something _off_ about him, like he was a mannequin come to life. The sight of him made Nano's blood curdle.

"One," he said, pointing at Nilesy, "two, three, four—" He pointed at Nano and Lomadia and Zylus in turn, speaking in a bratty and childish voice, then frowned. "We're missing some! Where's the other two?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Nano snarled, hiding her fear under a thin film of anger. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

The man turned to her, grinning. His eyes were a hideous, stringy red, as though his pupils were black blood clots surrounded by a thick film of mucous. Nano shrank back from him as much as she could, pressing her head against the wall. His smile had too many teeth in it.

"I'm Parvis," he said, still using that impertinent child-voice. "And I've come to get you. You're all going to come back with me."

"Come—come back with you where?" Nano asked, her skin crawling.

"Oh, someplace," said Parvis. "It doesn't matter. But I came all this way to find you and I've been _so_ bored, so I'm going to have some fun first. I don't think I have to bring you _all_ back. I haven't really gotten to play at _all."_

Nano's stomach knotted up, and she couldn't stop her lip from curling.

"You lay one fucking hand on me and you'll be pulling back a stump," she snarled. The wall behind her sizzled as acid oozed out through her pores.

"Ew, no," said Parvis, his nose wrinkling. "You're horrible and ugly, I don't want to play with _you."_

"Shut up!" Lomadia snapped, struggling futilely. "Shut up, you little shit! Let me go, I'll kill you, I'll rip your stupid head off!"

Parvis turned to her, his grin growing still further.

"I think I might pull _your_ wings off," he said. "Like a great big butterfly. That'll be fun. You might not even die, and then Parvy'll be the real hero. I bet I could make you not die. I can keep all your blood in you. I'll take off your horrible ugly feet too, and your big ugly eyes, and then I guess I'll bring you back with me. But you don't really matter, so—"

"It won't make him love you," Zylus said suddenly.

Parvis paused, then turned to him. Lomadia had gone white as a sheet and was shivering. Nano tried to wrench herself loose from the wall, but to no avail. She couldn't even reach out and take Lomadia's hand to offer any comfort.

"What won't?" Parvis asked, looking Zylus up and down.

"Bringing ush back," Zylus said. His voice was shaking, and his face was waxen and pale. "He got rid of you becaushe you're Powered. Becaushe he—he hatesh Powered people. People like—like ush—"

"I'm not _Powered,"_ Parvis said. "I'm not a stupid ugly freak like you all."

"Oy, you little—" Nano snarled, but Zylus cut her off.

"But—but they did . . . horrible thingsh to you," he said, a bead of blood slipping out of his nose. "At—at YogLabsh. They—put thingsh in you. They tortured you. They made you—made it sheem like you were—they tried to _make_ you a freak. Like ush."

"Ye-es," Parvis said slowly, regarding Zylus sidelong, shifting his posture. "They did _awful_ things to Parvy-Parv."

"They made you—they're the reashon Shtrife threw you out," Zylus went on. He was going green around the gills, his face twitching with pain. The blood trickled down towards his lips, drawing a thick red line out of his nose. "They're—they're the reashon he doeshn't want you. Not ush. We—we could help you. Get—revenge. On them, on the people who—who did thish to you—"

"It hurt a _lot,"_ said Parvis. "But it's _so good_ now. I've got all the cool tricks, because I'm the best. Strifey'll like me again when—" He broke off, then narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, hands on his hips. "How d'you know about Strifey?"

Zylus's eyes went wide. "You—you shaid he—you'd bring ush back to him. But he'sh—he'sh never going to _appreciate_ you. He'sh never going to— _agh—_ even _like_ you, he never did."

"That's a lie," Parvis snapped. "He always liked me best. He's just upset 'cause he's scared you freaks are going to rip him up, but once I bring him all of you as pretty little presents, he'll love me again."

"He won't," Zylus croaked. Blood was flowing freely from his nose now, running over his lips and towards his chin, starting to leak out of the other nostril, too. "But—if Yog—YogLabsh _fixshed_ you, put you back how—how you were—we could help you—we could—we—"

Parvis watched him for a moment, frowning. Zylus's head tipped back against the wall, his breath coming in short gasps, his face screwed up with pain. Suddenly, Parvis grinned.

"You've got something on your face," he said. He skipped across the room and grabbed both of Zylus's ears. Zylus tried to wrench free, but he had no leverage, there was nowhere for him to go.

Parvis licked the blood off his face, lingering and obscene. Zylus sputtered and wriggled, and Parvis kissed him sloppily on the mouth. Zylus's whole body heaved, like he was going to throw up, and Parvis hooked a hand through his belt and pressed up against him, and Nano's vision went red with rage and Lomadia was spitting curses like cobra venom.

Suddenly, Parvis was flung to one side like he'd been hit by a car. Zylus gagged and spat, greener than ever.

Nano turned her head to look at Nilesy. His face was blank, white with rage, his eyes fixed on Parvis. On the other side of the room, Parvis picked himself up and dusted himself off, grinning.

_"Ooooh,_ you know the trick, too!" he sang. "Only, I'm much better at it than you are. Wanna see?"

The briefest flicker of fear crossed Nilesy's face, and suddenly his arm jerked away from his body and there was a wet and sickly _pop_ and he screamed.

"Yeah?" Parvis snarled, suddenly vicious. "Yeah, you fucking like that? _Get fucking Parv'd!"_

Nilesy screamed again, until he ran out of air—and then he went on screaming, broken up by strangled gasps and coughing, and the whole time he was thrashing uselessly like he was trying to get away from his own body, his knuckles bruising against the wall and the thick-corded tendons in his neck standing out.

_"Stop it!"_ Lomadia cried, her voice cracking. "Stop it, stop hurting him!"

Nilesy's screaming tapered off, and he went limp, still pinned against the wall. His head fell forward and his hair curtained his face, hiding it from Nano's view. His chest was heaving with ragged, rasping breaths. Nano felt like she was going to be sick.

"You're horrible," Lomadia said, stuffy, snot running down her face. "Why're you so horrible? He's never done anything to you. Nobody's ever done anything to you!"

"I don't _care,"_ said Parvis, his nose wrinkling. "He screams so pretty. I like making him sing. I bet his blood feels nice. It feels nice when it's in him. I only want to touch it a little. I'm going to—"

The door burst open with a _bang,_ and Nano nearly jumped out of her skin. Parvis whirled on his heel, grinning and clapping his hands together.

"More friends!" he cried. "Up against the wall!"

Lalna stared at him. Their head tipped to the side. Slowly, their eyes turned a bright and violent red.

"You ~~hurt~~ them," they said quietly, their voice flanging with static.

Parvis backed up a step, white and wild-eyed.

"No—no fair," he stammered. "What are you? What _are_ you?"

Lalna strode into the room and grabbed him by the throat. Parvis tried to run just an instant too late and ended up kicking thin air, clawing at the hand clutched around his neck that held him up off the ground.

"You will not ~~hurt~~ them again," said Lalna.

Parvis turned red, then purple, his eyes bugging out. His kicking grew weaker, and Nano felt herself sliding down the wall. Parvis wound down and went limp, and she felt the hand of power relax, and she crawled over to Lomadia, unsteady and sick and dizzy. She hurriedly wiped her hands on her shorts, trying to get all the acid slime off.

"Lom, sweetheart," she gasped, carefully taking her by the shoulders where she sat on the floor. "Are you all right? Sweetheart? Did he hurt you?"

"I—I—" Lomadia stammered, her eyes wide, her head twitching.

"Lomadia," Nano said. "Look at me, sweetheart, please, come on. It's okay, hey, it's okay, look at me—"

Behind her, there was a thump, as of a body hitting the floor.

"I did not kill him," Lalna said, their voice thin and quiet and frightened. "Is Nilesy injured?"

"Dishlocated shoulder," Zylus reported. "I don't know what elshe."

"Lom," Nano said quietly.

"I—I couldn't—he hurt Nilesy, he hurt him—" Lomadia said. Snot was running over her lips, thick and clear.

"I know, sweetheart, I know, but it's okay now," Nano said. She took Lomadia's face in her hands, petting her cheeks with her thumbs. "It's okay, we're all going to be okay. Are you hurt?"

"N-no—but—"

"Nileshy?" Zylus was saying. "I'm going to put it back now. It'sh going to hurt like a bitch for about three shecondsh, but then it'll get better. Okay?"

There was a moment of silence, and then another muffled _pop,_ and Nilesy yelped and whimpered, and Lomadia seemed to snap out of some kind of spell. She struggled to her feet and stumbled across the room, her wings trailing behind her. She dropped to her knees at Nilesy's side, wiping her nose on her wrists and sniffling. Nilesy was just sitting there, staring at nothing, pale and expressionless.

"It's okay, it's okay," Lomadia said, petting his hair, gathering him to her chest.

Shakily, Nano got to her feet and went to Lalna. She threw her arms around them and buried her face in their stomach, clutching them tight as she could.

"Lal," she said. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. . . ."

"I heard screaming," they said, still in that frightened little voice. "I thought Rythian was coming too, but he did not."

Nano shook her head. "I just—thank you. Thank you for coming, and for—for saving us, oh, God, I thought—I thought—"

She had started crying, and the lump in her throat choked her off. She shook her head, still hugging Lalna as tightly as she could. They put their arms around her, gentle and strong.

"I did not kill him," they said again.

Sniffling, Nano peeled herself off of them, although she took their arm as she did so. She looked down at Parvis, lying unconscious on the floor, a bit of drool falling from the corner of his mouth and puddling on the floor.

"Jesus," she whispered, and shuddered. She looked over at Zylus, who was kneeling next to Nilesy. "Zylus, are—are you okay?"

Zylus's lip curled. "I will be," he said. "After about eight showersh and a handle of gin." He turned his head and spat, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. There was still blood all over his face, smudged and smeared.

"Is—is Nilesy. . . ?" she asked, glancing at him. He was sitting cradled in Lomadia's arms, vacant and still. The fingers of his right hand were in slow and constant motion, like he was winding invisible threads around them.

Zylus glanced over at him and winced. He shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple.

"I . . . think sho?" he said. "I don't think he'sh sherioushly hurt."

"God," Nano whispered. She shuddered again, leaning into Lalna. "What the fuck do we do now?"

At her feet, there was a gurgle. She leapt back, her heart in her throat, acid already bubbling to her skin.

On the floor, Parvis twitched slightly, his diaphragm convulsing. He gurgled again.

It took Nano a good eight seconds to work out what was going on. She shoved herself off of Lalna and sprinted over to Nilesy, yanking him out of Lomadia's arms.

"Stop it!" she snarled. "Stop it _right fucking now,_ Nilesy!"

"What?" Lomadia said. "What're you doing? What's wrong?"

_"Nilesy!"_ Nano snapped, shaking him. "You stop drowning him _this fucking instant!"_

Nilesy did not respond, still staring at nothing, still winding those invisible threads around his fingers. Nano slapped him as hard as she could.

He caught her wrist.

Slowly, slowly, he turned his head to look at her. His eyes were cold and dead and glittering, deep and bleak as the open ocean. She could not look away, could not move, could not breathe. Behind her, Parvis gurgled again, and there was a scuffing noise, like weak struggling.

"Stop," Nano whispered, shaking where she sat.

Zylus gasped like someone had thrown cold water on him. The scuffing, struggling noises went quiet. There was one final gurgle. Nilesy's mouth curled into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Nobody," he said softly, "fucking lays a hand on Zylus."

"Nano?" Lalna said. "This person's heart has stopped. They will die if action is not taken. Should I—"

"Leave him, darling," Nilesy said lightly.

"But—"

"His lungs are a bloody pulp," he said. He was still holding eye-contact with Nano. His grip was cutting off the circulation to her hand. "Trust me, there's no helping him."

"You're a monster," she whispered, horrified, transfixed. There was still acid on her skin. She could smell burning flesh.

He smiled at her, languorous and mad. He was not letting go.

"And _God_ I'm good at it," he breathed.

"Nilesy," Lomadia said sternly. "Let go of her."

His grin grew by a couple molars. His hand tightened on Nano's wrist. There was a faint sizzling noise.

"Should I, darling? She might hit me again, and I'm sure we don't want _that."_

Lomadia grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, her face hard and stern.

"Let her _go,"_ she growled.

"Lomadia, darling, take your fucking hands off me," Nilesy said.

"Take yours off Nano."

Nilesy tipped his head to the side, considering. He opened his hand and Nano snatched her arm back, clambering to her feet and taking two steps away from him. She still couldn't breathe properly, and she was sure she was going to be sick any second now. Zylus had his head in his hands and was shivering violently.

Carefully, Lomadia let go of Nilesy. He got up and dusted himself off, then leaned over to peer around Nano at Parvis. He clicked his teeth.

"Rude little bastard, wasn't he," he said mildly. Then he shrugged, turned around, and sauntered away to his room. The door shut with a soft _click_ behind him.

Pair by pair, every eye in the room turned to the cooling corpse on the floor. Blood was dribbling from the corner of the mouth, leaking from the nostrils. The eyes were open and staring, glassy.

"What're we going to do with him?" Lomadia asked.

Nano's body gave up. She only just made it to the kitchen sink before she threw up. She stood there, shaking and crying and vomiting, she didn't know how long. Eventually, someone came into the kitchen and stood near her. She looked up to see Zylus at her elbow, bloody-faced and grim.

"Why didn't you stop him?" she demanded hoarsely. "You _knew_ he was killing him, you _must've_ _—_ why didn't you _stop_ him, why didn't you—why didn't you—"

His jaw tightened, and he looked away.

"He would have killed ush if he'd woken back up," he said. "Shomebody had to do it."

"Bullshit. Bull _shit._ That's not—we could have—could have—"

"There _washn't another_ _option_ _,_ Nano," Zylus snapped. "And don't fucking lecture me on how _awful_ it ish, becaushe _I felt him die,_ and you have _no_ fucking clue what that fucking feelsh like, you have no idea how fucking _awful_ that ish."

She stared at him, shaking with unspent violence. The metal of the sink was fizzing under her hands.

"This is so _fucked,"_ she said. "This is so fucking _fucked._ What the fuck are we supposed to _do?"_

"About the body?" Zylus asked. "Or about Nileshy?"

"Both! Either!"

"Lomadia'sh going to get rid of the body tonight," said Zylus. He glanced at the door, then leaned in and spoke in an undertone. "And ash for Nileshy, I have an idea. . . ."


	26. Chapter 25

"Well _someone's_ going to have to go in there eventually," Panda said, frowning at Nilesy's door. "Unless he comes out on his own, which is pretty fucking unlikely."

"The voice of experience?" Nano asked dryly.

"Yeah," said Panda, shrugging.

"He doesn't usually come out when he's done something really bad," Lomadia said. It was half past midnight, and she'd just gotten back from dumping the body out in the desert. Panda gathered that she hadn't slept. He was beginning to suspect that none of them would be sleeping much in the coming days.

"I . . . could," Rythian said carefully, fidgeting. "Try. I wasn't really here for . . . everything."

"No," Panda snapped.

"Panda," Zylus said, his voice low and tired. He'd been sitting with his head in his hands for the past three hours, hardly moving, hardly speaking. He hadn't been drinking, but unless Panda was very much mistaken, it was only by a great effort of will.

"You expect me to let the bastard who _heard_ Niles screaming bloody murder and decided _not_ to help to—"

"How was I supposed to know?" Rythian interrupted. "How was I supposed to know that it was _any_ different than the ten _thousand_ other times Nilesy randomly started screaming?"

"What does it matter?" Panda retorted. "You should've showed up anyway!"

"There'sh nothing he could have done," Zylus said heavily.

_"He_ didn't know that!"

Zylus sighed. "Jusht . . . go eashy."

"I'm not fucking going _easy_ on him, not after what he did! Or _didn't_ do, more specifically, which is give one single fuck about Nilesy."

_"Panda,"_ Zylus said. He rubbed his forehead. "We get it. _He_ getsh it. Dishcussion over, let it go."

Grumbling to himself, Panda folded his arms and glared moodily at the corner of the room.

"Incredible," Nano said under her breath, shaking her head. "It's like magic."

"Perhaps it would make sense for Panda to attempt to retrieve Nilesy," Lalna said.

"I guess at this point I'm the least traumatized person in the room," Panda said. "I could give it a go."

Lalna tipped their head to the side. "That wasn't my reasoning, but it seems equally valid."

"I still think Lalna should go," Lomadia said.

"I'm not very good at providing comfort," Lalna said, ticking their thumbs together. "Or at defusing dangerous situations without the use of physical force."

"But you're his . . . sibling thingy," said Lomadia.

Lalna shrugged. Their eyes shaded up to a much paler purple. "I am also . . . scared. I am not certain that Nilesy will not hurt me."

"Not twice, he won't," Nano said darkly.

"It will already be the second time," Lalna said. "I was not technically present when he killed me, but I do not have a backup self this time and I am reluctant to take the risk. I understand if others are similarly concerned for their lives, but I believe I have the most grounds for caution. It's just that there is precedent for him killing me."

There was a protracted, uncomfortable pause.

"Then maybe Zylus, he's good at that stuff," said Lomadia.

Simultaneously, and with considerable vehemence, both Zylus and Nano said, _"No."_ Lomadia fluffed up, offended.

"Okay," she said. "I'll just stop saying stuff, since it's all bad ideas."

"Nobody said that, sweetheart," Nano sighed, massaging her own neck. "We're all just snappish and . . . tired. And we can't make Zylus do everything, it's not fair."

"Well," said Rythian, "well, can't Zylus tell us . . . how he's doing?"

"You mean if he'sh going to kill the nexsht pershon who walksh in the room?" Zylus said, without raising his head.

"Y-yes, that . . . yes," said Rythian.

"I have no idea," said Zylus. "He goesh from _kitten_ to _killer_ in point-four shecondsh flat if you _breathe_ at him wrong. There'sh no telling what'sh going to shet him off, or why. There'sh nothing I can tell you that'll be any help, becaushe you walking in the door could completely change hish entire pershonality."

"Look, I'll just go," said Panda, getting up off the couch. "Anybody seen Lyndon? It usually helps to have him along."

"I believe he's been hiding under the sink since this afternoon," Lalna said. "He wouldn't come out to eat so I put his food in with him."

"Yeah, makes sense," said Panda. "I guess I'll just leave him, I don't want to get my hands all torn up."

"If you need help, just yell," said Nano.

"I will," Panda said, and did not add, _if I can._ Zylus nudged his arm as he walked by, which Panda took to mean that his distress would be heard whether or not he could vocalize it. It was at least marginally comforting.

Before he had a chance to think of how badly it could go, Panda slipped into Nilesy's room and shut the door behind him.

All the lights were out, the curtains drawn, and it was nearly pitch-black. Panda waited for his eye to adjust to the darkness, his ears to attune to the silence. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear breathing.

"Niles?" he said softly. "It's me."

There was no response, no sound or movement. It was still much too dark to see. Carefully, Panda felt his way over to the window and tugged the curtains apart, just enough to let in the orange streetlight glow from outside.

Nilesy was curled up in his bed, both hands tangled in his hair, his face buried in his knees. He was shivering intermittently despite the heat. Pain struck through Panda's heart, and what had started as fear flipped over into concern.

"Oh, God, Niles," he murmured. He went to the bed and sat down on it, gently touched Nilesy's shoulder. Nilesy flinched like his fingers had been red hot. "Sorry! Sorry. It's just me. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Nilesy said nothing, although the shivering had gotten worse. Carefully, Panda laid his hand on Nilesy's arm, hoping he could provide at least some comfort. The two of them remained like that for uncounted minutes, silent save for Nilesy's labored breathing.

"I killed him," Nilesy whispered at last.

"I heard," Panda said.

"Right—in front of _everyone._ They all . . . they all saw. They _all. . . "_ He sounded like he was either going to start sobbing or throw up, possibly both.

Panda couldn't think of anything to say to that, unsure if trying to comfort Nilesy would only make things worse. There wasn't much he could say, anyway, that was both comforting and _true._ But Nilesy didn't speak again, either, so Panda ended up just changing the subject.

"It's been like, nearly twelve hours," he said. "I'm guessing you haven't had anything to eat or drink."

Nilesy shook his head. His hands were clenched so tightly in his hair that the motion ripped out a few strands. The wounds on his wrists had taken on a nasty yellowish complexion that made Panda want to dunk them in disinfectant on the spot.

"Okay, let's start with that," said Panda, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Nilesy shook his head again.

"C'mon, you'll feel better after you've had something. I'll start you some tea and—"

_"No,"_ said Nilesy.

A foul taste crept up on the back of Panda's tongue. "Niles," he said. "I know you feel awful, but please. You've got to at least have something to drink, or you'll die."

"Good," Nilesy whispered.

"No, c'mon, you don't mean that—"

"I can't do this anymore, Panda," he said, choked up and shivering. "I can't. I won't. It didn't work. Experiment failed. Let me go."

Fear hit him like a cold fist in the gut. He wrapped his hands around Nilesy's forearms, trying to encourage him to uncurl, or at least look at him. Nilesy only curled up tighter, like a mollusk retreating into its shell.

"Please don't," Panda said. "Niles, we'll figure this out, I promise, it's not—it's not that bad—"

_"Fuck_ off," Nilesy snarled, his voice cracking.

Panda shut his mouth and bit his tongue, blinking back tears. It wasn't quite the same powerlessness as watching Nilesy plunge into a flashback, but it was close.

"I want to help," he offered, when Nilesy didn't continue.

Still, Nilesy said nothing. Panda let go of his arms and put a hand on his back, as gently as he could.

"D'you want me to fill the tub up?" he asked quietly.

After a moment, Nilesy nodded.

"Okay," said Panda, ill and defeated. "But . . . don't do anything, um, _irreversible_ while I'm gone. All right?"

Again, he just nodded. Panda patted him on the shoulder and went into the bathroom. He plugged the bathtub drain and started the water running, then went to stand in the doorway where he could keep an eye on both Nilesy and the tub.

"Um," he said, as a morbid curiosity struck him. "Is um . . . is warm or cold, um . . . better?"

"Cold," Nilesy croaked. He still had not uncurled. Panda went and adjusted the water temperature accordingly, shutting off the hot entirely. The water wouldn't be _cold,_ exactly, but it would be closer to it.

He got the tub about halfway full and ran out of patience. He left the water running while he carefully retrieved Nilesy. Getting him to uncurl and get up out of bed was like unfolding crumpled plastic wrap, but they managed it eventually.

Panda forced himself to stay and watch while Nilesy drowned in the tub. It was horrific and agonizing and cruel, but he did it anyway, in case something went wrong. Standing there, doing nothing while Nilesy writhed and twitched in obvious pain was one of the hardest things Panda had ever put himself through.

Finally, Nilesy stilled, although the relief that flooded through Panda was poisoned by guilt. He touched Nilesy gently on the shoulder before leaving, swallowing down bile and trembling.

The mood back in the main room was subdued, anxious. Zylus had started drinking—Panda didn't blame him. On an impulse, he went and sat down next to him and held out a hand for the bottle.

"Hell no," said Zylus.

"I've got a brand new functional pancreas, and I just watched my boyfriend drown himself," Panda said. "Gimme."

"Hypocrite," Zylus muttered. He passed the bottle to Panda, who took a hearty swig out of it and promptly choked on it. It was like trying to drink butane. It took him a good minute to stop coughing, and even then, his eye continued watering and his sinuses kept prickling.

"Is he . . . um," Nano said, glancing back at the corridor.

Panda wiped his face and sniffled. "He's . . . not good," he admitted. "I think—I don't think we should . . . leave him alone. For long periods of time. Or . . . around sharp objects."

Zylus made a noise of disgust and slugged back a gulp of liquor.

"I mean, _tell_ me I'm wrong!" Panda exclaimed. "Please, God, tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong," said Zylus. "Go get shome orange juishe or shomething, you'll choke lessh."

"Wait, sorry, clarification," Nano said. _"Why_ aren't we leaving Nilesy alone?"

"Becaushe he'll kill himshelf," Zylus said bluntly. Hearing it like that, stated so factually and unflinchingly, made Panda's whole body ache with dread, with despair.

"Oh," Nano said, very quietly.

"Christ, this again?" Rythian said. His voice cracked, and there were lines of worry etched into his face.

"I'm going to go be with him," Lomadia said, hopping down off the back of her chair.

"He's in the tub," Panda said. Lomadia left, moving quickly.

"Lalna," Zylus said, "maybe you should go with her."

"I am not sure I will be of much help," they said.

"More help than here," said Zylus.

"Okay," said Lalna. They followed after Lomadia, their eyes a pale, worried purple.

For a while, nobody said anything. Rythian was staring into space, his hands engaged in idle motions. Nano was taking deep breaths and massaging her own neck. Zylus kept drinking, steadily.

"What're we going to do?" Panda asked eventually.

Nano sighed. "Zylus had some ideas," she said, gesturing to him. "Care to share with the class?"

"They're not good ideash," Zylus said.

"Better than nothing," said Panda.

"Maybe," said Zylus. He drank. "You won't like them."

"I don't like any of this, Zy. Nobody likes any of this."

"You'll like it even lessh." He went to take another drink. Panda tried to snatch the bottle from him, but Zylus slapped his hand aside before it got halfway, clearly having anticipated the motion. He must not have been drunk yet.

"Would you _please_ lay off for five _seconds?"_ Panda hissed.

"Fine," said Zylus. He capped his bottle of liquor and set it on the coffee table. "The way I shee it, we have four optionsh."

"Four?" said Nano. "Last I heard, it was three."

"I thought of another one," said Zylus.

"All right, let's hear it, then," said Nano.

Zylus rested his elbows on his knees, then clasped his hands and stared at them.

"One," he said, "we have him committed."

"Are you fucking _crazy?"_ Panda demanded, bristling. Zylus held up a hand.

"Jusht wait, that'sh not even the worsht one," he said. "Shecond, we try and talk him into taking medsh."

"You're right, that _is_ worse," said Panda. "He'd never do it. He just about pulled the house down on my head last time I suggested it."

"Which leadsh me to option three," said Zylus, scarcely acknowledging Panda, "which ish: we medicate him without hish knowledge or conshent."

Panda stared at him. There was a flicker of bluish light as a spark crawled up Rythian's chest.

"No," Rythian said quietly. "That's not an option."

"Great," said Zylus, grinning like a mouthful of razors. "Which bringsh ush to option four: we let him kill himshelf."

Panda decked him. The force of the blow knocked him out of his chair, sending him tumbling to the floor. Panda had moved so fast that it made his head spin, made him see sparks as he stood there vibrating with fury. Rythian yelped, Nano recoiled in shock.

Carefully, Zylus picked himself up off the floor. His lip had split open, and he wiped the blood off on the back of his hand.

"How _dare_ you," Panda hissed. "How fucking _dare_ you say—"

"It'sh what he wantsh," Zylus said candidly.

Panda shoved him in the chest, knocking him flat. Nano got up and reached out to take Panda's arm. Panda was across the room before she even got close.

"Don't _even,"_ he snarled at her.

Zylus got up again, dusted himself off, and turned to face Panda.

"Shomebody onshe shaid to me," Zylus said evenly, "that when you love people, you have to let them hurt. You have to let them hurt _thems_ _h_ _elves_ _h_ _._ Otherwishe you're taking shomething from them."

"That's _not_ what I meant and _you know it!"_ Nano cried suddenly.

"Do I?" Zylus retorted. _"Do_ I know that? Becaushe _lasht_ time I tried to shtop him from killing himshelf, that'sh what you shaid to me!"

"She fucking _what?"_ Panda said, turning on Nano.

"I didn't _mean_ it like that! He _knows_ I didn't mean it like that, he's—he's twisting my words!"

"Twishting how? Tell me what you shaid different, Nano."

"I _meant_ you can't _manipulate_ people into getting well!" she snapped. "You can't play with their heads and _make_ them get better! Which is _all_ you were doing, _correct me if I'm wrong."_

Zylus held up his hands, his eyes closed. Slowly, he went back to his chair and sat down. After a moment, Nano followed suit, then Rythian. Panda stayed standing, glowering at all of them.

"I did shay you wouldn't like the optionsh," Zylus said.

"There's _got_ to be other ones," said Panda.

"Not onesh that don't reshult in any of ush dying," said Zylus.

"And I suppose you've thought of everything, have you?" Nano demanded.

"If you have any better ideash, I'd love to hear them," Zylus said. "Look, the _only_ other thing we can do ish crossh our fingersh and hope he doeshn't get worshe, and you can shee how well _that'sh_ been working out sho far."

A wash of silence followed his words. Panda fidgeted.

"We're not doing anything without his consent," Rythian stated, his voice full of quiet conviction. "No matter what it is."

"Agreed," Panda said immediately. He'd never liked Rythian more than in that moment.

"You know what," Nano said suddenly. "I'm going to go ask _Lalna_ if they've thought of anything."

Zylus froze, just for an instant, then shrugged. "If that'sh what you want," he said. He picked up the bottle off the table, uncapped it, and drank.

"It is," said Nano. She, too, went down the corridor and into Nilesy's room.

"Did she _really_ say that?" Rythian asked quietly, when she'd gone. "About . . . letting people hurt themselves?"

"Yesh," said Zylus. "Word for word."

An awkward two minutes passed, while Zylus drank and Rythian and Panda avoided looking at each other. Nano came back with Lalna trailing along behind her.

"Go on and tell them, love," Nano encouraged, gesturing to Lalna as she resumed her seat.

Lalna folded their hands and started ticking their thumbs together. Their eyes cast a faint purplish glow over their face.

"I have analyzed the current situation in depth," they said. "Nano informed me of the possible courses of action Zylus has already suggested."

So quickly it was almost imperceptible, their eyes flicked red. Zylus must not have seen it, because he didn't react, but it sent a chill scurrying up Panda's spine.

"I have thought of some additional options," they went on. "I believe the most fair and feasible one is to discuss the matter with Nilesy and determine what he thinks would be effective."

"Oh," said Panda. He fidgeted. "Right. Of course."

Rythian scratched the back of his head. Nano was glaring pointedly at Zylus.

"Sure," Zylus said, not looking at anyone. "The only reashon I didn't wash becaushe shome of mine depended on him not knowing about them."

Lalna's eyes flicked red again, and this time Zylus had to have seen it, because he went utterly rigid and gripped the neck of his bottle like he was going to use it as a weapon.

"I believe it would be best to discuss it in the morning," Lalna said. "Nilesy will likely not be willing or able to make such important decisions for several hours at least."

"Fine by me," said Zylus. He had another swig of liquor.

"I'm going to bed," Panda declared abruptly. He left the room before anyone could say anything, locking his door behind him. He felt ill. His stitches were itchy. His head hurt. His knuckles were still aching from hitting Zylus.

He sat down on his bed and stewed in remorse, wanting nothing more than to turn back time and prevent the past month from ever happening.

* * *

 

The call came in just after ten a.m., before Nilesy had even gotten out of bed. Panda didn't recognize the number, but he answered anyway, concerned it might be about his new pancreas.

"Hello?" he said, getting up out of his chair. Nano, Rythian, and Lalna, who were all out in the main room with him, hushed their conversation as he began to move away.

_"Mr. Cochrane?"_ The voice on the other end was American, deep and gruff.

"Yes," said Panda. It _was_ probably about his pancreas then, because that was the alias he'd given them. "Who is this?"

_"My name is William Strife,"_ said the voice. Panda's heart stopped. _"Put me on speaker phone, kiddo. I got a message for all of you."_

Too frightened and stunned to think, Panda moved the phone away from his head and fumbled it onto speaker.

"Okay," he said thinly.

Billionaire weapons-manufacturer and YogLabs Administrative Board-member William Strife cleared his throat.

_"Morning, freaks,"_ he said. _"In case nobody told you, this is William Strife."_

Nano sucked in a gasp through her teeth and went rigid. Rythian crackled with sparks all over, his eyes going huge and round. Lalna's eyes turned vibrant red and stayed that way.

_"Now, I don't know who all's in the room,"_ Strife went on, _"but it doesn't really matter, so let's just skip the introductions, hey?"_

"How?" Nano demanded. "How did you find us?"

Strife laughed. It was a short, sharp bark of a sound, patronizing.

_"Wouldn't you like to know. Here's the deal, freaks: I know where you live. I'm lookin' at_ _a_ _satellite image_ _of_ _your pretty little duplex even as we speak. Now, I don't_ _want_ _to send a whole squadron of the Freak Police crashing in there to shoot you merry murderers dead, but believe you me,_ _I will._ _So now aren't you gonna be happy whenever I tell you there's an Option Two."_

"Get Zylus," Nano hissed at Lalna. They nodded, then hurried off down the corridor as quietly as they could.

_"Everybody still listening?"_ Strife inquired, like a primary school teacher.

"What's your fucking second option?" Nano said. There was a rather unpleasant burning smell starting to fill the room.

_"I'm so glad you asked!"_ said Strife. _"Option Two is, you bring your buddy in the mask right up to the tippy-top of_ _the Fontainebleu building and meet me there. The little psycho in the room with you, by any chance?"_

"You shut the fuck up," Panda snapped.

Strife laughed again. _"Gonna take that as a no. Don't tell me anything happened to the poor little freak. Gosh, it seems like just three weeks ago he was out murdering people like the good ol_ _'_ _days."_

Panda went utterly cold. He almost dropped the phone. He couldn't breathe. When next Strife spoke, his voice was low and humorless.

_"You bring that bastard to me,"_ he said. _"And hell, if you wanna throw in his accomplices in the murder of Llewellyn Xephos, I'll just be pleased as punch. You got_ _fifteen minutes_ _. If I don't get my freak, you_ _all_ _go back to prison."_

Lalna walked back in. "Zylus has not been able to achieve coherence," they said.

There was a moment of silence.

_"Wh_ _at_ _the_ _hell_ _—"_ Strife said. Panda hung up in panic, then fumbled to turn his phone off in case Strife tried to call back. Lalna put their hands over their mouth, their eyes pure white.

"Oh dear," they said quietly.

"Right," Nano said. "It's clearly a trap."

"We're not bringing Niles," Panda said.  
"Of course we're not," said Nano. "You and me are going. Everyone else is running like hell while we buy them time. If it's us he's got beef with, it's us he'll get."

"You distract him, I'll slit his fucking throat," said Panda.

"If you get the chance, do it," said Nano, without a hint of remorse. "How quickly can you get to the Strip?"

"Twenty minutes," said Panda. "You?"

"Less," said Nano. "I'll fly us both. We've got the trip to figure out what the fuck to do when we get there. Lalna, go get Nilesy and Lomadia and tell them what's happened. Rythian, get Zylus up and in the car. Can any of you drive?"

"I can," said Rythian. His pale scars had turned paler, and his voice shook, but he got to his feet with a swift confidence.

"Good," said Nano. "Don't take any phones, electronics, anything that can be traced. Ditch the car whenever it's convenient and get a new one. Can you do that?"

"Easy," said Rythian. A spark leapt between two of his fingers.

"Right. They might follow you, but at least we can reduce collateral damage."

"Where are we going?" Rythian asked.

"East," said Nano. "We'll catch up."

Rythian nodded and headed off down the corridor.

"How?" Lalna asked quietly.

"We'll find a way, love," Nano said gently. "Go get Lom and Nilesy, and don't worry about us."

"Okay," said Lalna. They went to Nilesy's room, only knocking cursorily before ducking inside.

"We're going to die, aren't we," Panda said flatly.

"Not without taking that bastard with us," said Nano.

* * *

 

William Strife was a tall, severe white man, with close-cropped blond hair and skin so perfectly tanned it make him look Photoshopped. He was dressed smartly in red and black, and as Nano set Panda down on the roof, he was thumbing away at his phone. Behind him was a black helicopter with _STRIFE SOLUTIONS_ printed on the side in red. The rotors were still, but there was a pilot in it.

"All right—" Nano began, landing next to Panda.

Strife held up a finger and frowned. He continued fooling with his phone for a moment, muttering to himself in his gruff American accent.

"Number Ninety-Four . . . annnnd . . . _off."_ He stuck the phone in his pocket, then turned his eyes to Nano. "Right on time. Nice. Where's the mask guy?"

"He couldn't make it," Nano said carefully.

Strife clicked his teeth. "Wellp, ain't that a shame. I was really looking forward to meeting him. Sure you can't call him up?"

"We're sure," Panda said.

"Okay, well, I guess you'll do. Get in the helicopter, Dr. Sounds."

She stared at him. "Excuse _me?"_ she said.

"Get in the helicopter. You're coming back with me."

"And why the fuck am I doing that?"

Strife smiled, his gaze fixed on her. "Because if you don't, I'm not gonna reactivate your little buddy's shiny new pancreas."

Panda's world fell out from under him, leaving him reeling, breathless, stunned.

"That's not—you can't—" he stammered. He got hold of himself and whipped out a pair of knives, snarling. "I'll fucking _kill_ you!"

"Ah-ah!" Strife said, holding up a finger. "It'll be _real_ hard for me to turn your pancreas back on if I'm dead, hey? Now I don't know much about bodies, but I think it's _generally_ pretty hard for 'em to live without entire organs."

"You're bluffing," Nano said. "You haven't got a damn thing on us, and you know it."

Strife raised an eyebrow. "Really? 'Cause, pretty sure I _could_ just have you both shot. Nobody gives a damn about a couple freaks."

Panda went for him, but Nano already had a hand around his arm before he even started moving.

"Don't!" she said. "Panda, don't. It's not worth it." She looked up at Strife. "Turn his pancreas back on, and I'll go with you."

"What, so you can set him loose on me? I don't think so. I've seen what that little monkey can do with a couple knives."

"Fucking _racist,"_ Panda snarled.

"I . . . did not mean it like that," said Strife. "Jeez, you people are so touchy. It's just _words,_ hey?"

Panda shrugged his arm out of Nano's grasp and stood there seething.

"This is stupid," he spat. "This is fucking pointless."

"Probably," Nano said to him. "But I'm not getting either one of us killed today."

"He's _bluffing!_ He hasn't got any guns on us at all, he—"

"Actually he _has,"_ said Nano. "Look at your chest."

Panda looked down at his chest. There was a red dot bobbing gently over his heart. He swallowed.

"Oh," he said quietly.

"There's two more on your back," Nano whispered to him. "Are you fast enough to beat them?"

Panda thought very, very hard about it.

"No," he whispered back, fear taking him in its icy grasp. "Shit."

"I know. I might have forgot about snipers. I'm sorry."

"We're _fucked,"_ Panda hissed.

"Not both of us," said Nano.

"Hey, c'mon, hurry it up, I don't have all day," Strife said.

"What do you want _me_ for?" Nano asked, lifting her chin and staring him down. Strife rolled his eyes.

"I don't think you _get_ it, princess," he said. "You—"

_"Call_ me fucking _princess_ again and I'll melt your fucking face off," Nano snarled.

Strife blinked at her, like he'd just been slapped in the face.

"I—uh . . . sorry?" he said, his voice odd and vague. He shook his head and his face resumed its stern and wooden cast. "The point—uh, the point _is,_ you don't ask me any more questions. You get in the chopper, I turn your buddy's organs back on, we don't worry about the _why's._ Okay? Great, okay, let's go."

"Don't," said Panda, his voice shaking. "I can—it's totally possible to live without a pancreas, I don't need it, you don't have to—"

"Panda?" Nano said, turning to him. "Make sure you come get me."

She hugged him quickly, then squared her shoulders and strode across the roof towards Strife. He reached out as though to take her arm, and she slapped his wrist.

"And _don't_ fucking touch me," she snapped at him, holding a threatening finger under his nose.

"Yes ma—uh, right, sure, whatever," said Strife, his hands raised in surrender. She stalked past him, hauled open the door of the helicopter, and hopped inside. In the brief glimpse Panda got, he saw leather seats and a mini-bar. Nano shut the door again behind her. Strife stood for a moment, shook himself, then turned around and walked back across the roof. He was a good foot taller than Panda, who stood there vibrating with poorly-suppressed rage.

"Right, so I'm gonna get in that helicopter back there," Strife said, cocking a thumb over his shoulder, "and five hours after that, I'm gonna turn your pancreas back on. Any funny moves from you, and one of the guys in the chopper shoots the lovely Dr. Sounds in the head. You tell your buddy in the mask I want to see him. You tell him if I don't see him real soon, somebody's gonna get hurt. Got that?"

"You're a dead man," Panda spat.

"Hey, well that makes two of us," Strife said, his eyes boring holes into Panda's head even as he smiled. "'Course, it'll take about three years for that shiny new pancreas to wear out, but you can always come get a new one."

Fury locked up Panda's jaw, and then the rest of his body, too. If he moved so much as an inch, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from turning Strife into mincemeat. It would almost, _almost_ be worth it to get shot. . . .

"Now granted, it'll run you a good eighty grand, 'cause I'm not running a _charity._ First taste's always free, but after that, oh _boy,_ are you people gonna be paying me through the nose. Planned obsolescence, gotta love it." He flicked Panda in the chest. "See ya, short stuff."

He turned on his heel and walked back to the helicopter, hauled the door open and hopped in. Somebody else shut the door behind him. The rotors began to spin, and Panda stood there, frozen and shaking and sick, as the wind roared around him and the helicopter took off, thrumming away from deafening to silent. Panda watched it go until it was nothing more than a speck amidst the white-blue sky.

Then he dropped to his knees and screamed until his throat gave out.


	27. Chapter 26

Against the odds which Lalna had calculated, Panda actually did manage to catch up with the group. The first half hour of their journey had been spent taking Lyndon to a shelter and leaving him there. Lalna had said goodbye as best they knew how. Nilesy had held the cat for nearly five minutes, crying silently, before handing him over to the staff and walking away without a word. All of them, except for Lomadia, had then piled into the car and set off eastward. Lomadia had taken off to fly far up above them, since her wings wouldn't fit in the car. They had been driving for an hour when Zylus sat up suddenly and slapped the dashboard and demanded that Rythian pull over, and Rythian had done so. Forty-five seconds later, another car had pulled off the highway three hundred feet ahead, and Panda had come trudging back to their car.

Alone.

There were a limited number of things that could have happened that would cause Nano not to return. Most of them were very bad. None of them were good.

Lalna moved over into the middle of the back seat as Panda hauled open the door and dropped into the car. He slammed the door behind him. He looked quite ill—his color was poor, his breath coming short, his eye glazed over.

"Oh _Jeshush,"_ said Zylus, putting his head in his hands.

"Where's Nano?" Rythian asked, looking back at Panda while the other car pulled back onto the highway.

"Strife took her," Panda said quietly, hoarse.

_"What?"_ Rythian cried. With a loud _crack,_ he discharged right into the dashboard. All the lights inside went out.

"Fuck thish," said Zylus. He opened his door and staggered out into the bright, hot afternoon. On Lalna's left, Nilesy silently followed suit. Panda went next, and then Rythian. Lalna left the car last. They turned their eyes to the sky, searching for Lomadia. When they spotted her, nearly a mile up, they waved, and she descended.

"What's wrong?" Lomadia said as she landed. She looked around at the assembled group. "Where's Nano?"

"With William fucking Strife, apparently," Rythian said. "What—what _happened?_ How could you—how did you—are you just—"

"He . . . he's got. . . ." Panda said. His voice was attenuated. A tear slid down his cheek as he shook his head. "She went. She—she—I promised I would—"

Zylus put a hand on Panda's shoulder, which made him stop talking.

"We shouldn't have thish convershation out in the open," he said. "Rythian, can you shtill drive, or are you too emotional?"

"No—we're not _putting this off,_ Nano is—Nano is—"

"Nano ish already a long waysh beyond our reach," said Zylus. "The firsht thing we need to do ish go to a pharmashy. Right, Panda?"

"No, I—I don't think I need . . . just some water, I think. It'll—I'll be okay. It's not _super_ bad. I don't think."

"Fine. A shop then," said Zylus. "But ash shoon ash posshible."

"Why?" said Lomadia. Her wings were pinned close to her back, her head moving sporadically. "What's going on?"

"Long shtory short, Panda'sh back to being diabetic for another four hoursh," Zylus said, "and Shtrife blackmailed Nano into going away with him. We'll find shomewhere to hole up in the nexsht town. We're drawing too much attention here."

"But—"

"Can you drive or not?" Zylus demanded.

Rythian grumbled to himself, but went back around to the driver's side of the car and got in. The rest of them, excepting Lomadia, followed suit. She, with a final distressed look around, took flight with a laborious flapping of wings. With some difficulty, Rythian managed to get them back onto the highway.

"What the fuck," Rythian hissed to himself, his hands clenched on the steering wheel. "What the _fuck."_

"Lalna?" said Zylus, glancing back. "Any ideash on what we're going to do?"

"I thought we were going to discuss this in the next town," said Lalna.

"We'll dishcussh it there, too," said Zylus. "There'sh no reashon to washte time waiting for Lomadia. She'sh not exshactly a tactical geniush."

_"Oy,"_ Nilesy said, very quietly.

"She'sh not shmart, Nileshy," said Zylus. "It'sh not a fault, it'sh a fact. She'sh going to want to reshcue Nano, and moshtly through exshesshive ushe of violenshe. We're not taking anything away from her by dishcusshing what we're _actually_ going to do. If anything, it'sh doing her a shervishe, becaushe it'll move thish along fashter. Lalna. Optionsh."

They frowned, considering several thousand possibilities.

"It is likely that William Strife will continue to hunt us, since we did not bring him Nilesy, as he requested," they said. "It is unclear whether he will utilize Nano as a hostage."

Fear overwhelmed them at that point, and they could no longer speak. Nano was in danger, clear and present. Lalna was not there to help her. At this juncture, there was nothing they could do. It was the worst feeling in the world, almost enough to make them shut off their interpersonal software.

Almost.

"He . . . didn't seem like he was—going to," said Panda, haltingly. "Any—anytime soon. He said—he said—"

_"If I don't shee him real shoon, shomebody'sh gonna get hurt,"_ Zylus said, affecting an American accent. Panda shuddered.

"See . . . Nilesy?" Rythian said.

"Yeah," Panda whispered.

"Take thish exshit, we need to get shome water for Panda," said Zylus, pointing up ahead at a large green highway sign.

"Speaking of _which,"_ said Rythian, slewing across three lanes to careen into the exit. "Why did he let _you_ go? Weren't you an _accomplice?"_

"I'm half a hostage anyway," Panda mumbled, staring at his knees and crying. "He's—my new—the clinic was a—a fake. My new pancreas, he's got—he can turn it on and off. Whenever. Which is—which is how he got her to go with him—"

"And how he found us," Nilesy said softly.

"Shit," said Zylus, rubbing his eyebrow. "It'sh got a tracker in it."

Panda wrapped his arms around his stomach and folded over, shaking.

"Oh, shit," said Rythian. "Shouldn't we—if he's in the car with us, then—"

"Rythian's Power would be sufficient to short out tracking devices," Lalna said hopefully. "Even if no damage is incurred, the electronic systems would likely overload."

"Yeah, sib, including the ones running his pancreas," Nilesy said gently.

"Oh," said Lalna, hanging their head.

"So what, we either have a—a bug on us wherever we go, or we dump him by the roadside?" Rythian demanded, taking a right off of the exit ramp much too fast.

"For now," said Zylus. "And I can tell you which one we're _not_ doing."

"Just hand me over," Nilesy said. "Problem solved."

"Fuck no," said Lalna.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Rythian slowly drifted out of his lane and onto a rumble strip, making the whole car shudder unpleasantly. Lalna tipped their head to the side, concern and embarrassment volleying up from their interpersonal software in equal amounts.

"Did I misuse the expression?" they asked.

"No," Panda said. "You got it _exactly_ right."

"Listen—" Nilesy said.

"Nobody'sh handing you over to William Shtrife," said Zylus. "Final anshwer. Pick a different shuishide plan."

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Rythian mumbled, pulling into a gas station car park and shutting off the engine.

"If he'sh going to shay shtupid shit out loud, I'm going to call him out on it," said Zylus. He opened his door and stepped out. "Two minutesh. If I'm not back, leave without me."

"Zy—" Panda began, but Zylus slammed the door and walked away before he could say anything else. Without thinking about it, Lalna started a timer running.

"Is it just me, or. . . ?" Rythian said, his voice thin.

"Or what?" said Panda.

Rythian gestured through the windshield to Zylus as he ducked into the gas station convenience store.

"It's just that, he seems a little . . . um. . . ."

"He's been acting somewhat abnormally," Lalna said. "Although our circumstances have been notably unusual."

"I think, maybe," Panda said carefully, "Zy's been having a really, really tough time. For . . . a while now."

A brief lull followed. Rythian glanced in the rearview mirror at Nilesy. Panda leaned forward slightly to look at him, too. Following their lead, Lalna turned their head. Nilesy was sitting still, staring out the window with his chin propped on his hand. His face was, so far as they could discern, expressionless.

"Right," said Rythian, shifting in his seat. "And . . . worse, recently, because of . . . that whole . . . thing."

"With Parvis," said Panda. "Yeah."

Again, both of them looked at Nilesy, who, so far as Lalna could tell, remained unchanged. They hypothesized that Rythian and Panda were expecting some sort of reaction from him.

"Niles?" Panda said.

"It's my fault Nano's gone," Nilesy declared, his voice quiet and steady. Clearly, this was not the reaction Panda and Rythian had been expecting, because they both reacted with surprise.

"That's inaccurate," said Lalna, while Rythian sputtered and Panda made pained faces. "It's William Strife's fault, because it was his decision to kidnap her."

"If I'd gone, she'd still be here," Nilesy said, as though it was in any way factual.

"That is also likely inaccurate," said Lalna. "I believe it was his aim to take you, Nano, and Panda, since all three of you were responsible for Xephos's ~~death~~."

Their voice flanged unexpectedly with a lightning-quick torrent of emotions. They instinctively put the interpersonal software on a cool-down and, indeed, had to reroute a fair deal of power to sort through the sudden burst where it rested in their short-term memory.

Anger, grief, and pain were all prevalent. There was also relief, which was odd, and _jealousy,_ which was even odder. Frustration and disappointment had come into play, loneliness, regret, sadness. They found also a vicious kind of joy that they had no name for and did not like.

They allowed their body to resume normal operations. They had been in partial shutdown for approximately six tenths of a second. They resolved to investigate the possible causes for the flare-up when they were not in the middle of a conversation.

"I believe Panda was only allowed to walk away from the encounter because of the utility of the probable tracking device that was implanted in him," Lalna went on. Rythian was looking at them oddly, but neither of the other two seemed to have noticed their brief burst of emotions.

"What the fuck does _he_ care about Xephos?" Panda demanded, rolling his eye.

"I don't know," said Lalna. "I'm not sure why he hasn't involved the authorities, since it was a murder."

"They were covering it up," said Rythian. "They said it was an accident, back when it happened."

"Right, so if they launch a murder investigation, they have to either say they were wrong, or admit they lied," said Panda.

"Considering YogLabs' patterns of operations in the past, I think it's unlikely they would do either," Lalna said. "Although I'm still unsure why the initial deception occurred."

"Y'know," Panda said slowly, "come to think of it, there were like, _no_ guards there. It was really stupidly easy to get to him."

"Nano's little helpers wanted him dead," Nilesy said, toneless.

"Oh, right," said Rythian. "Gozen-something and Ruilden-somebody. Zoey told me about them."

Nilesy went rigid. Slowly, he sat up straight, turning his eyes to Rythian. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet and high-pitched.

"Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern, perhaps?" he inquired.

"Probably?" said Rythian. "That sounds right."

"Two minutes have elapsed," Lalna mentioned. "Are we going to leave without Zylus?"

"Of course not," said Panda.

"That—no," said Rythian. "That would be . . . not good."

Nilesy did not respond, staring out the windshield expressionless and still. His heart was racing, as evidenced by the fluttering of his carotid artery.

"Maybe I should go in and get him," Panda said, distinct worry in his voice. He craned his neck, trying to peer into the store.

Lalna briefly wished for their old body, with its thermal cameras that could see through walls and would tell them, in an instant, whether or not Zylus was still inside, and what condition he was in. Considering the way things were going, they might also soon be missing their flight boosters and their MALaRs.

Upon some further thought, they decided that they would _never_ miss the MALaRs.

"I don't think you should," Rythian said to Panda.

"Why not?" Panda demanded, his eyebrows drawing together in a scowl.

"It's just that . . . you're sort of . . . distinctive," said Rythian.

"Yeah, I've also got a fucking tracker in my abdomen, it doesn't fucking _matter_ who sees me," Panda snapped.

"I could take care of that right now, if you wanted," Rythian said, his voice dropping to that lower register he used when he was angry.

"Please don't," said Lalna. "Our current situation will become much more difficult if Panda doesn't have a functioning pancreas. Assuming that William Strife chooses to reactivate it, we'll be better off if it isn't destroyed."

"Oh, fuck," said Panda, putting his face in his hands. "Don't. Don't even. Just let me _believe,_ all right? Let me _believe_ that the scummy motherfucker is going to keep his fucking promises."

"Currently, it's in his best interests for you to survive," Lalna said. They patted Panda's leg, since they couldn't reach his shoulder in the cramped confines of the car, hoping it was the right action for the moment.

Zylus stepped out of the convenience store before the conversation could continue. He hurried back to the car, got in, and passed a bottle of water back to Panda. He shut the door and rubbed at his forehead.

"Keep going," he said.

"Keep—keep driving, or. . . ?" Rythian said.

"Yesh."

"Right. Yes. Okay," said Rythian. "Couldn't we—couldn't we go back? To . . . Vegas? Since they already know where we are? All the time?"

"What, just . . . go home?" Panda said.

"The newsh wash playing in there," Zylus said, irritated. "Shomebody found the body we dumped in the fucking deshert. _Keep. Going."_

"Oh," said Rythian. Lalna experienced a brand new emotion, clear as day, right then and there.

It was dread.

* * *

 

They stopped in the town of Arlington, Wyoming, eleven hours after leaving Las Vegas. The others had eaten on the road, and everyone had taken a shift driving, even Nilesy. It was much easier than Lalna had anticipated, and their own shift went by uneventfully. They could have easily gone on driving for many more hours, but the others insisted that they not. Since Rythian could not sit in the back with the others without extreme danger, taking a shift driving was the only way for Panda, Zylus, and Nilesy to gain a reprieve from the cramped quarters in back.

Zylus took the last shift, and pulled them off the highway and into a motel parking lot at nine fifteen. It was dark out, and quiet, and the land was flat and empty. Lalna had been staring, rapt, out the car windows for hours and hours, watching the landscape roll by.

Despite everything, it was still beautiful, huge and empty and wild, speaking poetry to their soul. They wished they knew the language of it, but it was not, they felt, a thing that one could speak or ever truly understand. The tongues of wonder were far beyond them, and all the sky and the yellowed land and the far distant, snow-capped mountains made them feel perfectly, indescribably small.

They had felt small before, but not like this. There was something of comfort in the experience.

While Zylus and Panda dealt with getting a room to sleep in and Nilesy languished in the car, Lalna stepped out and walked away from the lights of the motel, off into the surrounding dark. They turned their eyes to the sky, to the glittering sea of stars above them. They stood, very still, filling their eyes with light that had sprinted, full-tilt, for millions and millions of years simply to shine down, vanishingly dim, upon this tiny world, this tiny town, this tiny _them._

Someone slipped their hand into Lalna's. They knew it was Rythian, without even looking.

"I've never seen it like this," he murmured. "The sky."

"I think. . . ." Lalna began, and stopped.

Rythian squeezed their hand, encouraging.

"I think I am beginning to understand," they said.

"Understand what?" Rythian asked.

"How it feels to be alive," said Lalna.

"How does it feel?" Rythian said.

Lalna considered.

"Very big," they said. "And very frightening. And unbearably lovely."

Rythian leaned his head on their shoulder, warm in the balmy night.

"Yes," he said. "That's accurate."

* * *

 

It took several hours for Lomadia to catch up with them. It turned out that she was not built for long-distance flying, and had grown so exhausted that she nearly fell out of the sky. She'd hitched a ride on the top of a large truck for a few hundred miles, then continued switching trucks in order to stay on course. When asked how she'd managed to actually find them, she just shrugged.

"I checked loads of places," she said. "I figured you'd be somewhere small and dark where nobody would come looking. I just looked for the car in all the hotel car parks until I found you."

"Speaking of which," said Panda. "Should we ditch it?"

"Not yet," said Zylus. "We'll keep an eye on the newsh. Onshe they're onto ush, we'll shwitch carsh. Shtealing thingsh ish jusht ashking for trouble right now."

"Maybe . . . it would make sense to split up," Rythian said. He was sitting on one of the two beds, cross-legged and barefoot. He'd had to put his mask back on once night had fallen. "That way, we're not abandoning Panda, but we're not _all_ . . . tracked."

"I dislike that idea," Lalna said. They were sitting on the floor in front of Rythian's bed, their back leaned up against it.

"So do I," said Panda. "It's going to take all of us to rescue Nano."

_"Are_ we rescuing her, dear?" Nilesy said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him—Lomadia on the other bed with him, Zylus in the armchair, Panda at the desk. Nilesy was sitting with his back against the headboard, and hadn't spoken once since the brief stop all the way back in Nevada.

"Of course we are!" Lomadia cried, offended.

"She broke all of _us_ out of prison," Panda said. "Except Lom, I guess. I think it's time to return the favor."

_"And_ she's my _girlfriend,_ and I love her!" said Lomadia.

"I will not abandon her," said Lalna. "I will not allow her to be hurt."

Rythian reached out and touched their head. "We're rescuing her," he said.

"I guessh we're reshcuing her," Zylus said. He was displaying markers of deep discomfort.

"Why would you even ask?" Lomadia demanded.

"No no, sorry, I haven't phrased it properly," said Nilesy, turning to her. "Are we _rescuing_ her?"

"What?" said Lomadia, frowning.

"You think she's working _with them?"_ Panda asked, his eye wide and his tone incredulous.

"I was only asking," said Nilesy.

"Of course she's not working _with_ _YogLabs_ _,_ that's stupid," said Lomadia.

"Is it, dear?"

"Yes," she said, her wings fluffing up.

"If she'd been a YogLabsh traitor, I would have known about it," said Zylus.

_"Would_ you, now?" said Nilesy. He was shivering, his hands clenched on his own knees.

"Okay, Niles, maybe um—maybe calm down, a bit, there," said Panda. He touched the knife in his belt.

"This _is_ calm, dear," said Nilesy, not looking away from Zylus. "Zylus, darling, when _was_ the last time you were sober a whole day running?"

"Oh, for fuck'sh shake," Zylus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Um," said Rythian, glancing around. He fidgeted on the bed.

"Certainly not today," Nilesy went on. "Out of curiosity, what _was_ it you decided to chug in the petrol station bathroom? Smelled of apples. _Powerfully_ of apples. When was the last twenty-four hours you went without marinating your fucking brain?"

"Zy?" Panda said quietly.

"Thish ish not the time for thish fucking dishcussion," said Zylus.

"Yes, it is," said Nilesy. "And I'd like an answer, please."

"If she'd been a mole, I would have known," Zylus said, his lip curling away from his teeth. "You can't hide that shit. And beshidesh, what the fuck would she have waited a fucking _year_ for?"

"That's not an answer," Panda whispered.

"You shut the fuck up," Zylus snapped.

"Whoah," said Rythian, leaning away from Zylus. "All right, what the hell?"

"Should I, Mr. Seven-in-the-Morning?" Panda said, getting up out of his chair. "Should I keep my mouth shut, like I have been for the past _month?"_

"Why is everybody so upset?" Lomadia asked, distressed. "What are you all _talking_ about?"

"I'm not sure about everyone else," said Nilesy, still staring fixedly at Zylus, "but _I'm_ talking about the fact that in the past month, darling Dr. Sounds has been sneaking off to God knows where, making phone calls to God knows who, conspired to have me shipped off to the madhouse and, when that failed, decided to subject me to sixteen hours of torture. I'm talking about the fact that she was so _conveniently_ left untouched and unthreatened by the oh-so-lovely Parvis when he came to visit. I'm talking about the fact that the _infamous_ William Strife just _happened_ to take her away from all this the moment things started getting dangerous. How long has she been calling our shots for, dear? How long has she had her fucking _hooks_ in you? How long—"

Lomadia grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him in close to her, until their noses were nearly touching.

"Shut up," she growled.

Nilesy grinned, holding her gaze.

"D'you know, dear," he said airily, "I've been having the strangest dreams. . . ."

"That'sh enough," Zylus said sharply.

Nilesy laughed. "Oh, _is_ it, darling?" he asked, his voice dropping half an octave.

"Yesh, Vee, it fucking ish."

This seemed to give Nilesy some pause. He turned to look at Zylus, although Lomadia's hand was still fisted in his shirt. He had stopped smiling, although he didn't look unhappy.

"You know my name," he said quietly.

"Of courshe I do," said Zylus. "And if you're done with the game, you can shtop playing right now, and you'll never shee how it endsh."

Vee (Lalna quickly altered their code to refer to him as such), tipped his head to the side. Carefully, Lomadia let go of him.

"Is it a game, Zylus darling?" he asked, his voice still soft and deep.

"I thought everything wash a game to you," said Zylus.

"For a given definition," said Vee.

"Sho are you done, or not?"

"No," Vee said pensively, "I don't think I am. But _Nilesy_ might be. Maybe you should ask him."

"Nexsht time I shee him, I will," said Zylus.

Vee considered for a moment, then hopped up off the bed.

"I'm going out for a bit," he said. "I'll send Nilesy back."

"Thanksh," Zylus said, not sounding appreciative.

Vee winked at him and walked out. The door thudded shut behind him.

"Should we—is it safe to—" Rythian said, strained.

"Shafer than keeping him in here," said Zylus.

For ten seconds, none of them said anything.

"All right," said Panda. "What the _fuck_ just happened?"


	28. Chapter 27

Nano slept, albeit fitfully, most of the way back to Bristol. Strife's private jet was cushy, and although it made her fume, there really wasn't much she could do.

"Aren't you going to knock me out or tie me up or something?" she'd demanded, as Strife's goons had shuttled her from the helicopter to the private jet.

"Nah," said Strife. "'Cause there's no parachutes in this jet, and I don't think you wanna die today. You're a smart cookie, you—"

"Don't _ever_ call me a fucking _cookie_ again," she snapped.

"Jeez, there's just no winning with you!" Strife exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

"When the game is patronizing me, no, there's not," she'd said.

Strife was also on the jet, which she thought was rather stupid of him. She'd considered, very thoroughly, if it was worth dying just to bring him down with her. She'd decided she would have a better chance later, maybe at the airport in Bristol, when she herself would be less likely to die. It was much too early yet for last-ditch efforts. She'd barely dipped into _first-_ ditch efforts.

At the very least, he hadn't tried to talk to her. Mostly he'd let her keep to herself, and he'd kept to himself, apparently wrapped up in his laptop and tablet and whatever they contained. The jet stopped briefly in New York to refuel, during which time Nano was held at gunpoint until they reached cruising altitude again.The four goons took shifts sleeping, guarding, and piloting. She never saw Strife sleep.

Somewhere over the Atlantic, Nano got bored of pretending to be unconscious. That knot under her shoulder blade was back, and worse than ever, making it almost impossible to get comfortable. She sat up and stretched, and decided that she might as well try and learn something. She looked over at Strife, who was sitting near the back of the little jet. It was dark outside the windows, and the lights were low inside, so his computer screen was illuminating his face in sickly blue light. He was frowning.

"Where are we going?" Nano asked. She was surprised to discover that her voice was rusty, hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat.

"Bristol," Strife said shortly.

"YogLabs?" she guessed.

"No," said Strife.

"Why not?" said Nano.

"'Cause you're more useful in one piece," he said. He glanced up at her. "For now."

"Uh-huh, sure," said Nano. "Useful for what?"

"Ransom, if you like," said Strife. "Bait, if you don't."

"So I'm a hostage."

"Got it in one, prin—uh, Dr. Sounds," he said. Nano had a flash of triumph at his avoidance of the patronizing monicker.

"And you think kidnapping and threatening _me_ is going to get you Nilesy?"

Strife looked up at her again, and kept looking at her, unwavering.

"So _that_ _'s_ his name," he said quietly.

Nano buttoned her lip, her face burning. Strife made an irritatingly pleased noise and went back to his work.

After another ten minutes of having nothing to do, Nano finally caved and got the current guard to bring her a bottle of water and something to eat. The guard brought back a ham and cheese sandwich, which Nano devoured with gusto. When she was done with it, she was feeling a little more herself, and decided to have another crack at Strife, this time being mindful of what he might or might not already know.

"So where in Bristol, if not YogLabs?" she asked.

Strife let out a gravelly sigh and rolled his eyes. "Prison."

"Which prison?"

"My prison."

"Your _personal_ prison, or was that just a greedy capitalist turn of phrase?"

"Not gonna matter much to you."

"Do the cells have mini-fridges in them, too?"

"Nope," said Strife.

"You brought me all this way in your swanky private jet, and now you're going to throw me in a plain old cell?" Nano asked. "I'm disappointed."

"Well gee, sorry to get your hopes up," said Strife. "Regular ol' cell, regular ol' prisoner."

"It's illegal, what you're doing."

"Never stopped me before."

"This is a kidnapping, you know."

"Yup."

"If you're _really_ after me for being an accomplice in Xephos's murder, why haven't you handed me over to the authorities? Why haven't you gotten the authorities involved _at all?"_

"Because _somebody_ thought it was a bad idea," Strife said, with sudden venom.

"Oh?" Nano said, fluttering her eyelashes. "Who?"

"None of your damn business," said Strife.

A thought occurred to Nano, and she wasn't sure if it made the current situation better or worse.

"This isn't YogLabs doing this, is it," she said. "This is just _you."_

"Yeah, _just me_ and my multi-billion-dollar company," Strife said.

"And you're _not_ throwing us to YogLabs the minute you've got hold of us?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Even though what they'd do to us is _infinitely_ worse than anything you could?"

Strife cracked a smile. "You don't got a lotta faith in my ingenuity," he said. "Besides, they don't want you. Not any more than they want any other bundle of mutants."

"So then _why?"_

Strife ground his teeth for a moment, as though deciding whether or not he was going to answer. He closed his computer, then got up and walked to one of the cabinets at the very back of the jet. He got out a cigar, trimmed it, and lit it. He came and sat across from Nano, puffed the cigar, and exhaled the blue smoke slowly.

"Xephos was . . . not my friend," Strife said. "But he was just about the closest thing I had left. They took him outta his office in _jars,_ Dr. Sounds. Sixty-five screw-top glass _jars,_ and the monster who did it just _walked away!_ That _freak_ just swanned off to live his happy little life in beautiful Las Vegas while they took Elly out in fucking _jars!"_

His voice cracked, and he reigned himself in. The contorted snarl on his face settled back into wooden composure, and he sat back in his seat, propping his ankle on his knee.

"And all this nonsense," Nano said, "kidnapping, blackmail, medical malpractice—you call that _justice?"_

"Nope," Strife said. He took another puff off his cigar and blew the smoke up at the ceiling. "I call it _revenge."_

"So I'm your bargaining chip, is that it?" she demanded. Her skin was prickling, a more sour smell mixing with the thick stink of the cigar.

"For now," said Strife. "When I get what I want, then you get demoted to _accomplice_ and maybe, if I'm feeling _real_ generous, I just have you shot. If you piss me off, I hand you over to YogLabs, and _they_ can play with you."

"You're assuming my people will even bargain with you," said Nano.

"Wellp, if they _don't,_ then you're bait, and that's even better," said Strife. "'Cause then _all_ of your freak buddies come walking right into my _open arms,_ and you can bet I got plenty of ideas for what to do with an armload of freaks."

"Stop using that word," Nano snapped.

"It's just words, hey?" said Strife, smiling unpleasantly. He puffed his cigar.

"Well _you're_ a petty, pathetic little shit and I hope you fucking drown in your own vomit," Nano snarled. "How d'you like _those_ words?"

Strife barked a laugh and shook his head.

"You got a tongue on you, I'll give you that," he said. "I like it."

"I'm a lesbian," she spat, her lip curling.

"Yeah, and I'm gay, it's called _banter,_ sweetheart, get used to it."

Nano pressed her hand to the seat and poured her Power into her palm. There was an ugly fizzing noise, and the cabin filled with the smell of burning leather. She could feel the seat melting.

"Don't fucking call me _sweetheart,"_ she growled.

"Hey uh, Jimbo?" said Strife, glancing at the guard. "She puts any more marks on my seats, put one through her kneecap."

The guard nodded, resting a hand on their gun. Nano wrestled herself under control, although now that she had the Power really flowing, it was hard to cut it off again.

"And _what,"_ she said, gritting her teeth, "are you going to do if they don't try and rescue me? What if they don't fall for your stupid trap?"

"Well hey, then I just follow the tracker I put in your little buddy's pancreas and I kill 'em in the comfort of their own home," said Strife, gesturing magnanimously with his cigar. "Not my first choice, 'cause, hah, assassins are expensive. And too goddamn _quick."_

_"Assassins?_ Oh, is _that_ what that—that _thing_ you sent to our house was?"

Strife paused, frowning. "Uh," he said, "what?"

"Name of Parvis?" Nano suggested, airy with irritation. "Yeah, he's fucking dead."

Strife choked on nothing and almost fell out of his seat.

"Parvis is _dead?"_ he cried, his voice cracking on every word.

"Oh, _extremely,"_ said Nano, slathering on some vicious glee to cover up the deep horror left clinging to her soul.

Strife stared at her for a moment more, then leaned back and loosed a delighted whoop that broke up into laughter halfway through.

"Holy _shit!"_ he exclaimed, grinning like a madman. "Dr. Sounds, you just made my whole friggin' _year!_ Thank you _God_ and all your freaky little angels!"

Nano blinked, utterly at a loss.

"This—no no, this calls for champagne. Jimbo, break out the champagne, we are _celebratin'_ tonight!"

"Yes, sir," said the guard, and went to the back of the jet and started rooting around in the mini bar.

"You're . . . pleased . . . about this," Nano said. She'd gone numb, too stunned or too overwhelmed to muster any feeling.

"You have _no idea,"_ said Strife, still grinning his head off. "God, you have no idea. I wished on my lucky damn stars that that—that— _that_ wouldn't come back, and my goddamn wish came true. Holy _shit._ How?"

Nano's jaw clenched.

"Nilesy," she said tightly.

Strife sobered on the instant, as she'd hoped. The guard returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses and Strife waved them away irritably.

"You just had to ruin it," he muttered, his lip curling. He got up and went back to his seat at the back of the plane. He opened up his laptop, scowling, slouching.

"How much of a chance do you think _you_ stand?" Nano asked.

"You want me to bust out the tranquilizers?" Strife snapped.

"Not really," said Nano.

"Then shut up," said Strife.

* * *

 

The prison, as promised, was unremarkable. It was to the north of Bristol, populated entirely by women, not as heavily secured as YogLabs but formidable nonetheless.

"How does this work, then?" Nano asked one of the guards. William Strife had gone his own way once the jet hand landed, leaving Nano to be shuttled off in a van by his staff. "You just lock me up with no trial and no due process?"

"Mr. Strife owns the prison," said the guard. "Empty your pockets."

Nano obliged, rolling her eyes. "I hope you know this is _incredibly_ illegal."

"Oh no," the guard said flatly. "Guess I'll have to lock myself up."

"How much is he paying you?" Nano said. There hadn't really been much in her pockets, but the guards searched her anyways. They didn't find anything. She wasn't aiming to be clever today, just to survive.

"Enough," said the guard. One of the others handed Nano a set of clothes that looked suspiciously like the YogLabs prison uniforms. "Get changed."

Fuming, Nano stripped out of her clothes and started pulling on the prison uniform.

"Uh," another guard said, "you uh—you had that looked at?"

She yanked her shirt on, burning with shame.

"What, the scars?"

"Nuh-uh, the—the tumor?" the guard suggested. There was a look of genuine concern on her face. Nano's stomach dropped.

"What tumor?" she said.

The first guard pulled out her radio.

"Hey uh, it's Ricci. I'm in Intake. Can I get somebody from medical down here right quick? Need an eval."

The radio squawked unintelligibly, and Ricci the guard thanked whoever was on the other side.

"No, seriously, _what tumor?"_ Nano said, her voice shaking. The old nausea was back, refusing to be swallowed down.

"Just—hang on a sec, we're getting somebody down here to look at it," said the second guard. "We should uh, we should get her to the cell. First things first."

"I've got a fucking _mystery tumor_ and you're locking me up _anyway?"_ Nano demanded. The smell of burning cloth reached her, tinged with the sharp scent of acid.

"Hey, whoah, okay, calm down," said Ricci, putting a hand on her weapon.

"I _can't help it!"_ she cried, exasperated. She was going to start crying and she hated it. "It just _does this!_ Somebody tell me what the _fuck_ is going on!"

The guards glanced at each other. Ricci took her hand off her gun.

"It's uh . . . for security reasons," she said. "Medical's gonna take care of you no matter what. If it looks bad, we'll hand you over to them."

_"If_ it looks bad?"

"Hey, lady, look, I don't know what the fuck to do either," Ricci snapped. "I'm just tryin' to do my job, okay? Until somebody else who knows better comes along, I do what I'm paid to do, which is get you to your cell with the minimum amount of fuss. Okay?"

Nano sucked in a breath through her nose, fighting back tears.

"Fine," she said, choked up and shaking. Her fists were clenched so hard it was making her knuckles pop. Acid slime was prickling all over her skin, much as she was trying to reign herself in.

"Okay," said Ricci.

Together, the four guards took her to her cell, although none of them touched her. It was a medium-sized room, big enough for pacing, with a bunk bed, a toilet, and a sink. The lighting was a surprisingly good facsimile of natural light, leaving the cell less than gloomy. The door was thick and heavy. It had a small, barred window and a slim slot in the bottom through which, presumably, food could be shoved. Everything was coated in something that looked suspiciously like Teflon. Nano wondered how much had been done to specifically prepare this cell for her.

Two of the guards waited outside her door until the medical personnel arrived, at which time they came in and stood inside. Medical had sent a pair of middle-aged women, both of southeast Asian descent, one of whom was rolling a cart loaded with medical supplies behind her. They had Nano sit on the bottom bunk of the bed.

"There's uh, there's this tumor-thing," Ricci the guard said, gesturing to Nano while speaking to one of the women. "It's on her back. I guess she didn't know it was there, so—that's probably pretty bad."

"Probably," agreed the woman. She turned to Nano. "We'll need you to take off your shirt."

Despite being scared half out of her mind, Nano still somehow managed to feel embarrassed. She took the shirt off and held it close to her chest, hot all over. One of the women had her turn around, and then cursed vehemently in what sounded like Vietnamese.

"What?" Nano said, her voice shaking. "What, how—how bad is it?"

"I'm going to do a little poking," said the woman. "Tell me if it hurts."

Nano heard latex slap against skin, and then a strong hand gripped her left shoulder, cold and rubbery. A finger prodded the exact location of the persistent knot under her shoulder blade.

"That hurt?" the nurse asked.

"No?" Nano guessed.

More poking and prodding was done, and although it was uncomfortable, there wasn't any pain. The two women conferred for a time, talking over their options without including Nano in the discussion at all. Eventually they decided to take a biopsy and figure out what to do from there.

When that was done, Nano was allowed to put her shirt back on, and the medical personnel left without speaking to her. The guards went out after them, and the door shut Nano in with a heavy _clang._

Once she was sure nobody was coming back in, she curled up under the bed and cried as quietly as she could.

* * *

 

The worst part, Nano thought, was the boredom.

She was allowed out to exercise twice a day, which she considered a small blessing, and there was some semblance of _employment,_ although it was so menial and brain-numbingly easy that it was almost as bad as sitting in her cell doing nothing. It could be worse. She had to remind herself that it could be worse.

After about a week, she managed to convince Ricci, who was a regular, to let her have a book. She read through it in a single day and cursed herself for it for another three days. Then she read the book again. It wasn't very good.

She was briefly informed, by the people in medical, that whatever was growing on her back was not cancerous. If it was causing her significant pain, they said, they might consider removing it, but otherwise it was nothing to worry about. She asked if they could get rid of it anyway. They made it very clear that this would be a waste of their time and money.

The other prisoners took very little interest in her, perhaps because she was Powered or perhaps because they had been warned that Nano was of particular interest to the people in charge. She didn't notice anyone else visibly Powered, but that didn't necessarily mean she was the only one. She almost wished someone would pick a fight with her, just so she'd have something to do.

She considered, almost daily, how bad of an idea it would be to break herself out. It would be devilishly easy. Every room except her own was made of concrete, which she could dissolve through in a matter of minutes. Even better, the outdoors was not roofed in, nor netted over, meaning she could simply up and fly away, provided she didn't mind being shot at. She was certain they would shoot at her. Whether they would use tranquilizer darts or real bullets was as yet undecided.

Two more tumors appeared, one on her chest and one on her scalp, just above her ear. Those got biopsied, too, and declared safe and unimportant. They were an ugly purplish color, harder in the center and squishier at the edges. Nano could swear they were getting bigger, changing shape, protruding further. Whenever she wasn't bored out of her mind, she was worrying about them, picking at them, wondering how much worse this was all going to get. It was almost a welcome distraction.

Eventually, however, there was a break in the monotony. Eighteen days into her imprisonment, Ricci and a couple of other guards, Lani and Siobhan, opened up her door in the middle of what was supposed to be sit-quietly-and-don't-cause-trouble time.

"Mr. Strife wants to see you," Ricci said.

"All right, send him in," said Nano.

"Hardy-harr," said Ricci. "Get up."

Nano got up. She was cuffed, wrists and ankles, and led out by Lani and Siobhan. They were wearing nitrile gloves, apparently in case she accidentally started shedding acid. That had been happening more and more often, recently. She wondered what they thought the _metal_ cuffs were going to do in that instance. She didn't bring it up, in case it hadn't occurred to them that she could rust the things right off her in about a minute and a half. They might switch her over to plastic zip-ties if she mentioned it.

"Am I allowed to know what this is about?" Nano asked, while Ricci and the others led her to one of the consultation rooms generally used for meetings with lawyers.

"I guess you'll find out," said Ricci, "'cause apparently _I'm_ not."

Nano clicked her teeth. "Rude. Does he pull the _sweetheart_ shit with you, too?"

"No, I get _honey,"_ said Ricci, her lip curling.

"What a fucking prick," said Nano.

"Amen," said Ricci. "Also: don't get chummy with me."

"Yes, ma'am," said Nano.

In the consultation room, she was cuffed to the chair and left alone. A couple of minutes later, there was a loud buzzing noise and William Strife was admitted, looking as sharp and well-dressed as ever. He dismissed the guard and came to sit down across from Nano, setting his laptop bag on the table. The temptation to spit on him was almost overwhelming.

"So," he said casually, "how're you likin' it?"

"Better than I like being in a room with you," said Nano.

"Sassy," said Strife. "Wellp, the good news—or I guess maybe _bad_ news—is that your little buddies got in contact with me."

Nano's heart leapt, then immediately crashed down into the pit of her stomach.

"Oh?" she said, trying and failing to keep her voice casual. Strife met her eyes and quirked up the corner of his mouth in what was probably supposed to be a smile.

"Oh yeah," said Strife. "They want proof you're alive and well. So here, today, we're giving 'em proof you're alive and well."

"Who contacted you?" Nano asked, while Strife took out his laptop and opened it up.

"Fella by the name of August Lindholm," said Strife, typing in a password. Unfortunately, he did it much too quickly for Nano to catch the exact keystrokes. "'Course, that's not what he calls himself, but that's his _name."_

Nano frowned. "Who?"

"Angry guy, wears a mask, sparks come out his ears when he's mad?" Strife suggested.

"You mean _Rythian?"_

"Sure," said Strife. "That's not his name, but if that's what you wanna call him."

Nano was half a second away from asking why Zylus hadn't done it before she stopped herself. There was a very, _very_ slight chance that Strife didn't know who Zylus was—after all, he hadn't seemed to know anything about Nilesy.

"Dare I ask how _you_ found out Ryth— _A_ _ugust_ _'s_ real name?"

"Well, y'know, it's a funny thing, but I ran across this landlord he used to rent from out in Ilford," said Strife. "Turns out he signed his real name on the lease. People get real cooperative when you're working on a murder case, hey?"

Nano clenched her teeth and said nothing. She hoped like hell Strife hadn't decided to go after Zoey and Fiona, but she wasn't about to mention them to him, just in case he thought they were unimportant.

Strife clicked a couple of times and then cleared his throat. He spoke to the computer as though there was somebody inside it, listening.

"Hey Gus, you read me?" he said.

Tinny through the speakers, crackling with static, she heard Rythian say, _"Yes."_

"Great! Okay, Dr. Sounds, time to say _hi."_

Strife turned the computer around. Rythian's face filled the screen, although she could see what looked like motel walls behind him. The relief on his face, even just the half that was visible above the mask, was palpable.

_"Hi,"_ he said. To her surprise, his eyes were filling with tears.

To her astonishment, so were her own.

"Hey," she said, managing a wan smile. "You—you've got that on a secure line, haven't you? Otherwise they'll track you."

_"They kind of do that anyway,"_ said Rythian.

"Oh," said Nano. "Good. So you know about Panda's . . . thing."

_"_ _Yes. That._ _You're okay?"_

"I'm—" _fucking terrified,_ she thought. "I'm alive. And I've still got all my bits." _And some extra bits, but apparently they're not a problem._

Rythian took a deep breath and nodded, running a hand back over his head. _"Good. That's—that's good to hear. Um. So—"_

"Don't come," she said.

He looked up suddenly, not at her but presumably at where her image was on his computer screen. The color of his eyes was washed out by the screen, leaving them gray and unprepossessing.

_"No?"_ he said. _"That's stupid, of course we're—"_

"Rythian?" she said, choked up and clenching the arms of the chair she was handcuffed to, "Don't."

_"Nano—"_

Strife turned the computer away. "'Kay, so, you satisfied she's alive?"

There was a crackling noise. Strife leaned away from the computer slightly.

_"Yes,"_ Rythian said, his voice low and dark.

"Great. You want her to stay that way, you send me the kid in the mask. What did the good Dr. Sounds say his name was? Nilesy. You send me _Nilesy,_ and maybe I'll play nice with Dr. Sounds here."

"He won't!" Nano shouted. "He's going to fucking kill me anyway, _don't come!"_

Strife glowered at her. He opened his mouth to say something when another voice came through the computer, very quiet and very composed.

_"Then me he shall get,"_ said Nilesy. _"Batten down your hatches,_ _you fucking scum_ _._ _Both of you."_

"Both— _what?"_ Nano cried.

She could hear the smile in Nilesy's voice when next he spoke.

_"I think you'll find, Dr. Sounds, that I don't tend to play nice with traitors."_

_"Nilesy—"_ Rythian said, and then there was silence. Strife looked up at Nano, who was sitting there with her jaw on the floor, reeling.

"Ouch," said Strife. "That's gotta sting. On the other hand, hey, two birds with one stone!"

_"Traitors?"_ Nano whispered to herself. The tears that had welled in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.

"Wellp, thanks for your cooperation," said Strife. He snapped his laptop shut and got to his feet. "I'll see you whenever I see you. And hey, enjoy your last few days on earth before your buddy in the mask shows up. I'll pick out some nice jars for you."

He laughed, and went to the door, and after some rigmarole was let out of the room. Nano sat there, stunned, and practically had to be dragged back to her cell.


	29. Chapter 28

Panda slammed the library-rented laptop shut and glared at Nilesy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice too loud in the little hotel room. Lomadia winced, leaning away from him.

"Panda," Zylus mumbled. He was curled up in the armchair, the hood of his hoodie pulled up all the way over his eyes. It had gotten cooler in the past two weeks, especially this far north. The nights were noticeably longer.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Panda went on, unheeding. "Jesus Christ, we've been through this a hundred fucking times!"

"Twelve," Lalna corrected. They did not sound as gentle as they usually did.

"You're not going to hurt Nano," Lomadia said, fluffing up her wings. "If you hurt Nano, I'll hurt you."

"Maybe we shouldn't bring him with us," Rythian said. He folded his arms and leaned away from the laptop. A little spark skittered up his arm and vanished behind his ear. "If he can't keep his temper."

"Could I," Nilesy said, "perhaps, have ten seconds to explain?"

"Oh, _this_ should be good," said Panda.

"I will start a timer," Lalna said coldly. Their eyes were getting uncomfortably red.

"If Strife thinks we're coming to kill her, he's going to let us walk in the front door," Nilesy said.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Rythian looked at Lalna and Lalna looked at Rythian. Panda stood there with his mouth open. Zylus curled up smaller. Lomadia frowned, confused.

"What?" she said.

Nilesy made a restrained and helpless gesture. "He wants her dead. He's not the type to stop other people from doing his dirty work for him, he's made _that_ clear with the whole fucking Parvis business."

"Threatening to sic the cops on us isn't the same as—as whatever the fuck _you're_ talking about," Panda said.

"I'm talking about strategy," said Nilesy. "You and Lom and Rythian go find Nano and get her out, and I go—ahahah—I go see Mr. Strife."

His tone dropped immediately after the nervous little laugh, into that quiet, grim voice that made Lomadia's feathers stand up.

"What about Zylus and me?" Lalna asked.

"You stay out of harm's way," said Nilesy.

"And _why_ wouldn't I be coming with _you?"_ Panda said, folding his arms.

"Because you're the one with the tracker in, dear," said Nilesy.

"Why can't anybody _else_ come with you?" Lomadia asked. "I can't, because I've got to get Nano, but somebody else could. Rythian, maybe."

"I had friends along last time, dear, and now one of them's been kidnapped and the other's got a tracker surgically implanted in his abdomen," Nilesy said. "Not making _that_ mistake again, ahah."

"And you didn't think to tell any of us this before you—before that—before we talked to Strife?" Rythian demanded.

Nilesy shrugged. "I only just thought of it."

"You can't kill Shtrife," Zylus said. His voice was hoarse. He'd been out for most of last night, coming home in the early hours of the morning and passing out in the chair.

"I think you'll find I very much can," Nilesy said mildly.

Zylus sat up a little, groaning. "If you go after him, it'sh an attack on YogLabsh. You'll shtart a war. They've been leaving ush alone thish long becaushe we haven't been a threat to them."

"You call this _leaving us alone?"_ Rythian demanded.

"Thish ishn't YogLabsh," said Zylus. "Thish ish jusht Shtrife."

"How d'you know?" Lomadia asked.

"Becaushe we're not all already in prishon," Zylus said.

"Would you just explain the whole thing in one go and stop question-baiting?" Panda said. Zylus shot a glare at him and sat up a little further. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn't slept, although he'd passed out in the chair for a good six hours. Maybe it was all the throwing up he'd done when he woke up.

"If Shtrife had the firepower to get all of ush at onshe, he would have done it," said Zylus. "Broken down our doorsh and had ush dragged off. Inshtead, he putsh a tracker in Panda and kidnapsh Nano for leverage. He shouldn't _need_ leverage. The Division ish a big enough hammer that if he had it, he wouldn't need anything elshe. They've alsho got legal jurishdiction, shinshe we're technically fugitivesh. Or we _would_ be, if YogLabsh had ever admitted that Xephosh'sh death wash a murder. He'sh doing thish on hish own, with hish own reshourshesh. Thish ishn't YogLabsh. Thish ish a vendetta."

"But Strife's on the admin board, now, isn't he," Panda said slowly. "So if we do anything to him, we're attacking YogLabs."

"And then they bring down the hammer," Rythian said darkly. Another spark went wandering up his arm and across his collarbones.

"It'sh hideoushly clever and I should have sheen it a long goddamn time ago," Zylus said. "Figured it out lasht night."

"Is _that_ what that was about," Panda said. "Here I was, thinking it was just good old-fashioned alcoholism."

"You can lecture me when I'm fucking dead," Zylus spat. "We've got bigger shit to worry about today."

"But we're going to get Nano," Lomadia said, returning to the only important part of the conversation thus far. "Right? We're going to rescue her."

"Yes, dear," Nilesy said gently. "Of course we are."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Good. So you don't think she's a traitor anymore? You're done with that now?"

Nilesy took a little bit too long to answer.

"I s'pose we'll see when we get there," he said.

"If you hurt her—" Lomadia threatened again, spreading her wings out.

"Trust me, dear," Nilesy said. "I know what'll happen."

"All right, hang on, hang on," said Panda, holding up his hands. "We're skipping some important bits here. If we, quote-unquote, _can't_ kill Strife, then what're we meant to do? Just walk up and ask him nicely if he'll pretty-please let Nano go?"

"I don't think that'll work," said Lomadia.

"No, I don't either," said Panda. "Zy? Any brilliant ideas?"

Zylus rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Not yet," he said. "Give me a couple hoursh. We don't even know how we're going to find her—"

"Nano is currently being held at Eastwood Park Prison in Falfield," Lalna said. "At least, that's where Mr. Strife's computer was transmitting from."

"Wait, hang on, how'd you know that?" Panda asked. "I thought you said Strife's security was like, super good!"

"It is very good," Lalna said, their eyes bright yellow. "I am better."

"I am so incredibly attracted to you right now," Rythian said, shaking his head. Lalna smiled at him.

"Jeshush fucking Chrisht," Zylus grumbled. "Fine, sho we know where she ish. How are we getting there?"

"Rythian can find somebody to fly us again," said Lomadia.

"That—no," said Rythian, who was blushing. "That's not really—it's just that, that was more of a . . . one-time thing."

"Why?" Lomadia asked.

"The—the person, who . . . made the arrangements . . . isn't—we don't really—I haven't talked to him. In a—in a long time."

"Oh. Why don't you just talk to him now, then?"

"I don't . . . have his number?" Rythian said.

"Oh. All right," said Lomadia, sagging. All of her good ideas seemed to go this way. Pretty soon she was just going to stop saying them at all.

"Niles?" Panda said.

"What?" said Nilesy.

"You've usually got ideas about stuff like this."

"Sorry. I was thinking about something else," said Nilesy. His head was to one side, his hand opening and closing slowly at his side.

"Yeah? What?"

"You don't put mad freaks on planes," he said absently, like he was talking to himself.

"I really wish you wouldn't use that word," said Lomadia, a gross feeling in her stomach. "I don't like it."

"Sorry, dear," said Nilesy.

"I guess we _could_ get on like, a boat or something," said Panda. "I mean, unless Rythian would zap the whole ocean."

"Probably not?" said Rythian. "But if the ship is made of metal, it . . . could be a problem. For everyone on board."

"Beshidesh, it would be even more exshpenshive than flying," said Zylus.

"Not if we didn't pay," said Panda. "I mean, you see those ships going out stuffed full of those great big shipping containers. I don't guess anybody really _looks_ in them, do they?"

"How long does it take to get across the Atlantic by boat?" Rythian asked.

"Approximately eight to twelve days," Lalna said, further confirming that they knew everything.

"Two weeksh trapped in a shipping container," Zylus said dryly. "That shoundsh _sho_ fun. Wait, no, the opposhite of that. Hell. It shoundsh like hell."

"Aw, c'mon, Zy, we've all been cooped up in cars and hotel rooms for like two weeks already!" Panda said.

"One word," Zylus said. _"_ _Plumbing_ _."_

"Oh," said Panda, making a face.

"It would be possible to buy passage on a ship," said Lalna. "The typical cost appears to be fifteen hundred dollars per person. Passports would also be required."

"So basically," said Rythian, "it's exactly as expensive as flying, we still need paperwork, _and_ it takes days instead of hours."

"But no super-high security to go through," Panda said. _"That's_ a plus."

"Can't Lalna do something about it?" Lomadia asked. "They do all sorts of stuff with computers."

Lalna put their head to the side. "What would you like me to do?"

"I dunno, like, get us fake money or fake passports or something," she said.

"That is very illegal," said Lalna.

"So?" she said, shrugging her wings. Lalna considered this, then nodded.

"It might be possible for me to artificially inflate one or more of our bank accounts temporarily," they said. "I do not think I could create believable fake passports. I could construct them digitally, but I would be unable to transfer them to an appropriate physical medium."

"We don't want to ushe our bank accountsh," said Zylus. "Cash only."

"How come?" Panda demanded. "It's not like they don't know where we are."

 _"Shtrife_ knowsh where we are," Zylus corrected. "Sho far, unlessh he'sh shpilled the beansh in the pasht four hoursh, the polishe don't. You know, the polishe who are looking for the people who murdered Alexshander Parvish? No cardsh."

"Oh, right," said Lomadia. "Because that's how Nano caught you last time."

Zylus frowned at her. She shrugged.

"She told me. She was really proud of it."

"Look," Panda said. "No matter what, we can't afford to get there legally, and we definitely can't afford to get us all fake passports and stuff. I figure we've got a better chance of sneaking onto a ship than we do sneaking onto a plane or whatever."

"But we already said it would be really gross being secret on a boat," said Lomadia.

"Okay, not sneaking then, but like, I dunno, we could bribe them, or something," he said, rolling his eye.

"Just the thing," Rythian drawled. "Let's make it _more_ expensive and _more_ illegal."

"Faster, though," said Panda. "Fake passports take fucking weeks. And bribing people isn't _more illegal_ than fucking _fake passports,_ idiot."

A huge spark leapt off of Rythian's head and earthed in the wall, leaving a scorch mark.

"How illegal is it if I—"

 _"Rythian,"_ Zylus interrupted. "Nobody hash time for thish shit. Shtow it until we have Nano back."

"Yeah," said Lomadia. "Yeah, that!"

 _"All_ I'm saying is," Panda said, his voice strained with forced calm, "there's _no way_ to do this aboveboard. Being a stowaway is illegal. Fake passports are illegal. _Artificially inflating_ our bank accounts or whatever the fuck Lal was talking about is _illegal._ Fuck's sake, we've _all fucking killed people—"_

"Shpeak for yourshelf," Zylus snapped.

"Whatever," said Panda. "We've _almost all_ killed people, why the fuck are we worried about this shit? Fuck it, why don't we just steal the ship! Who gives a fuck!"

"Panda, dear," Nilesy said. He was smiling, the first time he'd done so in weeks. "I think you're thinking the wrong sort of _illegal,_ here."

"Oh, God, here we go," Zylus said.

Panda's jaw dropped, his eye went wide, and he took a long, slow gasp.

"Niles, you don't mean—"

"I _do_ mean," Nilesy said, grinning in earnest, his eyes sparkling.

 _"Bank heist?!"_ Panda cried, vibrating where he stood.

"Thish ish fucking _shtupid,"_ said Zylus.

"I _guess_ that would work," Rythian said slowly. "It would solve a lot of problems. And we are sort of . . . already on the run."

"Sho the _lasht_ thing we want to do ish draw attention to ourshelvesh!"

"I'm tired of hiding out and not doing anything," said Lomadia. "We've got to go get Nano. Besides, it went okay last time. I bet Rythian and Lalna could help out lots, too."

"Robbing banks is illegal," Lalna said.

"It's . . . for the greater good?" Panda said, pleading.

"I don't think, in this instance, that it's _wrong,"_ said Lalna, their eyes a cool blue. "I was just making certain that everyone knew it was illegal."

"Yes, we—we all know that," said Rythian.

"Okay," Lalna said, nodding. "I'm committed to doing everything I can to ensure that we're able to get Nano back as soon as possible. Even if it's illegal."

"I'm in," said Rythian.

Zylus grumbled something in Dutch, probably cursing.

"Then it's settled," said Nilesy. "Bank heist it is."

Panda punched the air with both fists and cackled.

* * *

 

There was a lot more preparation than Lomadia remembered there being. She spent a lot of it sitting around being bored and worrying about Nano, because half the time she didn't understand what anyone was talking about, and the other half of the time she couldn't think of anything helpful to add. Lalna and Zylus did most of the planning, including picking out the bank and all the escape routes and the day and time and all the silly little details. Nilesy helped out some, but not as much as he had with the first (and only) other bank heist they'd pulled. He didn't talk to anybody, really. He'd been like that for almost a month now, worse since they'd left Vegas. These days it probably had something to do with Lyndon not being there anymore. He still wouldn't let her touch him, or Panda, or Lalna, or anybody. He didn't sleep right. She knew because she stayed up most nights, making sure nobody found them in all the hotel rooms they hid in. She usually slept in an empty bed during the day when they were staying in a hotel, or in the trunk of the car while they drove from one hotel to another. She was sure they had to be running out of money by now, but nobody seemed to really care. Since they were robbing a bank soon, it probably wouldn't matter for much longer anyway.

So long as they rescued Nano soon, Lomadia wouldn't have cared if they ended up totally broke, living in an abandoned attic and eating rats.

They started heading east again, after two weeks of wandering around the middle of the country at random. They were going to some place in Pennsylvania, and after that to New York to get on the ship. They all talked a lot about papers, too, and how they were going to get them or get around needing them. Lomadia could hear them when she was trying to sleep, either in the trunk of the car or in the hotels. They didn't usually talk about it when she was awake with them in the evenings.

She overheard a lot of things, and some of them scared her.

One night, when they were about a day's drive from wherever they were going in Pennsylvania, Nilesy got up in the middle of the night and slipped out. Lomadia didn't say anything and pretended she hadn't noticed, because he got all upset and weird when she noticed. Zylus woke up a little bit later and went out after him, mumbling in Dutch and rubbing his eyes. She figured he knew what was going on and was going to fix it. That usually happened.

What didn't usually happen was the two of them talking about it only a few meters down the corridor, where Lomadia could still just barely hear.

 _"I can't fucking do this,"_ Nilesy whispered. Lomadia went stiff. She wasn't supposed to be hearing this. Surely, Zylus knew she could hear, and would take Nilesy away somewhere to talk in private. . . .

 _"Yesh, you can,"_ Zylus said quietly.

Rythian and Lalna were asleep in one bed together. Panda was in the other one, snoring. He'd been sleeping a lot better ever since getting his new pancreas. Lomadia glanced at the door, fidgeting. She really _should_ tell them she could hear. It wasn't like she could just _ignore_ them, not when it was so quiet.

 _"Two fucking weeks? Two fucking_ _ weeks, _ _Zylus? I can't fucking do it. Not on a boat, not at sea, you know—you_ _ know_ _—"_

 _"Shh, it'sh all right,"_ said Zylus. _"I'll be there the whole time. Whenever you need me. You'll be all right."_

_"What if it—what if I—"_

_"You won't."_

_"You can't stop me. Nobody can stop me,_ _ I _ _can't—ahahah—_ _I _ _can't even stop me, it'll be worse than ever, I'll—it's going to make me fucking crazy, Zylus, I can't—"_

 _"You're already crazy, Nileshy,"_ Zylus said gently. Lomadia recoiled, her wings fluffing up in surprise. Even more shocking was how Nilesy responded, not with anger but with what sounded like acceptance.

_"I know. I-I know, but it'll get worse, it'll be so much worse—somebody's going to get hurt, I know somebody's going to get hurt, I can't—"_

_"Nileshy, lishten to me,"_ said Zylus. _"We're going to get through thish. You and me. Don't worry about anybody elshe. Don't worry about the boat, don't worry about anything. You're going to be all right. Trusht me. Focush on the bank thing right now. We need you at_ _a_ _hundred pershent if it'sh going to work."_

 _"I don't think I've_ _ got _ _a hundred percent anymore. I don't think there's that much of me_ _ left_ _. "_

 _"Of courshe_ _there ish_ _,"_ said Zylus. _"You jusht don't count it ash_ _you_ _mosht of the time."_

 _"It's_ _ not _ _me, and I'm not—he's not—"_

 _"Vee'sh ash much you ash you are,"_ said Zylus. _"And we need him for thish. You know he'sh up to it. I know_ _you're_ _up to it. You can do thish._ _Hey, look at me._ _You can_ _do_ _thish._ _Jusht shtay focushed, and let me worry about everything elshe."_

 _"Zylus,"_ Nilesy breathed, in that desperate way of his that made Lomadia want to put her hands all over him. _"Please, God—"_

 _"Shoon,"_ said Zylus.

_"I can't—"_

_"You can,"_ said Zylus. _"You will. Shoon, Nileshy. I promishe."_

Nilesy took a deep and shuddering breath.

 _"What the fuck would I do without you?"_ he asked.

 _"You'd be locked up shomewhere,"_ Zylus said, like it was obvious. Lomadia tasted something sour, something like rotten meat. _"Try to get shome shleep, all right? Thish will be over shoon."_

 _"All right,"_ said Nilesy, very small. _"I . . . love you."_

_"I love you too, Nileshy. Hang in there, all right?"_

_"I'll try,"_ said Nilesy.

There were some footsteps, the slipping, clicking noise of a keycard being put in the door, and Lomadia hurriedly turned her head to be looking out the window. Nilesy slipped in and crawled back onto his pile of extra blankets and pillows in the corner. Zylus did not come back in until nearly dawn, when he stumbled into the bed with Panda and passed out, probably drunk again.

Lomadia didn't sleep the next day, stuffed in too tight in the trunk of the car, sick to her stomach and not quite sure why.

She wished, very badly, that Nano was there.


	30. Chapter 29

It went a little something like this:

_Zylus enters the bank at 9:15 a.m. and conducts some basic business. He makes note of the areas of low traffic. He exits the bank, reports on the state and location of the vault, then returns soon after, invisible. He settles in to wait, monitoring the mental states of everyone in the bank and noting the position and disposition of the guards._

_By 10:00, Lomadia is in position across the street from the bank, watching for police presence and keeping in radio communication with Zylus. Zylus is thereby able to speak quietly enough that he is not overheard inside the bank, but can still communicate effectively. At 10:15, Lalna brings the getaway car (stolen) around back of the bank and drops off Rythian. They then park nearby (this is, by far, the most difficult part of the plan) and hack into the bank's security. If possible, they disable the silent alarm and unlock the vault. If not, they monitor the security cameras. Panda and Nilesy exit the car and take a circuitous route back towards the bank._

_At 10:20 a.m., Rythian sticks his hand into the bank's main fuse box and overloads the circuits, cutting off the power. Panda and Nilesy enter the bank. Panda keeps the hostages under control while Nilesy gets into the vault by any means necessary. Zylus monitors the hostages and warns Panda if anyone is considering making a move, including tripping a silent alarm. Lomadia continues to keep watch for police presence. As soon as the power is cut, Lalna moves into position as getaway driver outside the front of the bank. Rythian enters the car as soon as possible. Nilesy empties the vault, and the whole crew vacates the bank. Lalna drives out of town to where the crew's own, non-stolen car has been parked in a convenience store parking lot. Lomadia catches up there, and the crew heads for New York with their spoils._

_The entire operation takes less than two hours._

Panda stared out the car window, running the plan over for the hundredth time. He'd been thinking about it almost nonstop, torn between excitement and nervousness. The other heist they'd done, they'd walked off with nearly fifty thousand pounds. Granted, they'd also walked off with a few bullet holes, but they _had_ walked, alive if not necessarily well, and extremely rich. He was confident that with the addition of Rythian and Lalna, there would be a lot fewer bullets this time, even _if_ they were in the Land of the Guns, as Zylus put it.

He'd been given license to kill anybody who pulled a firearm. Nano wouldn't have liked it, but Nano wasn't there. As soon as anybody started shooting, it would all go to hell and likely _dozens_ of people would die. Despite the violence inherent in the system, nobody particularly wanted a body count—but if it was necessary to have one, it was preferable that it didn't include any of _them._

Panda hadn't slept the whole night before, too keyed-up to even lie down. Lomadia hadn't slept, either, although that was normal for her. Nilesy had taken up his customary blanket nest in the corner of the hotel room while Rythian and Lalna shared one of the beds. Zylus, for once, spent the night sober. Panda hadn't been able to tell if he was sleeping, but he was at least very quiet.

Fifteen minutes ago, Zylus had gone into the bank. It was 9:32 in the morning. They were driving through the streets near the bank, looking around for likely parking spots. Traffic was just starting to clear up after being dreadful all morning. Panda was literally vibrating with anticipation.

Rythian had hotwired the carin about thirty seconds in the hotel car park, and they'd all driven off with it promptly. Unfortunately, it couldn't be restarted without him, so Lalna would either have to park close enough to the bank for Rythian to get back quickly or just continue driving around while the heist was ongoing.

_"Done,"_ Zylus said suddenly in Panda's ear. He nearly jumped clean through the roof of the car, then poked the little radio like it was going to fall out. It turned out that Lalna had kept all of the radios from their previous operations and even gone so far as to bring them along when they'd fled the house in Vegas, either because they thought the radios would come in handy or because they were a habitual pack-rat, he wasn't sure which. They'd had to replace the batteries beforehand, but that had been the only hiccup in the use of the radios.

"How's it look?" Panda asked.

_"Not bad. Four tellersh, three guardsh. Two in the main room and one by the vault. Shitloadsh of camerash, but that shouldn't be a problem. There'sh a shilent alarm, sho be ready in cashe it'sh not on the main power grid. Everyone hash the mashksh, right?"_

"Yes, Zy, for the _millionth_ time, we've all got the masks," said Panda. His own—a red bear mask—looked stupid when he put it on over the eyepatch, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He wondered how Nilesy could stand it—the itchy elastic band, the sweaty heat of plastic against his face, the huge chunk taken out of his peripheral vision—but then realized that nearly all his complaints about the mask applied just as well to his own eyepatch, and figured that in both cases necessity probably outweighed discomfort.

His hands tightened on the duffel bag that had his mask in it, one of the four they'd be filling with cash from the vault. He glanced over at Nilesy, sitting in the back seat with him. Nilesy hadn't spoken all morning, pale and reserved and small. He didn't look ready to rob a bank. He barely looked capable of standing on his own feet.

Then again, he wasn't wearing the mask yet. A lot could change with ten grams of plastic.

_"Good,"_ said Zylus.

"Have you got _your_ mask?"

_"Yesh. Lom, are you there?"_

After a brief pause, Lomadia said, _"Almost. It'll be like, five minutes. Maybe ten."_

_"I'm going back in,"_ said Zylus. _"Let me know when you're ready."_

_"Okay,"_ said Lomadia.

They drove around for another half hour, until 10:15 rolled around. Lalna pulled over briefly in front of a sandwich shop a block away from the bank and let Rythian out. Rythian kissed them before he went, just a quick peck on the lips. Neither one of them said anything. Rythian, hands in pockets and shoulders hunched, shuffled off down the street towards the alley that backed up on the bank. Lalna pulled back into traffic and kept going.

"Niles?" Panda said quietly, reaching over to take Nilesy's hand. Nilesy flinched at the first touch. Panda folded his hands in his own lap, stinging. He swallowed the feeling down and went on talking anyway. "You ready?"

Nilesy didn't answer. Panda sighed and looked away. His nerves were getting the better of him. It wasn't feeling particularly fun anymore.

_"Rythian's ready,"_ Lomadia reported.

"I'll drop you off at the next intersection," Lalna said.

"Thanks," said Panda.

At the next intersection, Lalna pulled over, and Nilesy and Panda got out, toting the duffel bags. Panda took Nilesy's hand and kissed his cheek, half for show and half because he was terrified. They sauntered down the street, hand-in-hand, while Lalna drove away.

"We're on our way," Panda said quietly. "About two blocks off. I can see it."

_"Rythian can't hear anything, he hasn't got a radio. I'll tell you when he's about to do the thing."_

"God dammit," Panda muttered.

They continued down the block at a leisurely pace. Panda could feel every single pedestrian looking at him. His hand was clenched so tightly on Nilesy's that his own fingers had gone numb.

_"Masks on, he's about to do it,"_ Lomadia said.

Panda tugged Nilesy into an alley and fumbled the masks out. He could still see the bank, the next building down after the alley. The masks were cool, slick in his sweating hands. He put his own on, and Nilesy put _his_ on, and something about him changed, teetering on a knife-edge between Nilesy and something _else._

Panda squeezed his hand. Nilesy raised his eyes and _looked_ at Panda for the first time in days.

"Wanna make an entrance, Niles?" Panda asked.

Nilesy watched him for a moment, expressionless, and then his face split into a wide and starry grin.

"Darling, I'd be _delighted,"_ he said.

There was a loud _bang,_ and all the lights inside the bank went out. There were several shrieks. Nilesy started down the sidewalk towards the bank, his stride quick and confident. Water spattered against the insides of the bank windows as the sprinkler systems activated, and water began to flood up out of the storm drains. It rushed ahead of Nilesy and slammed the bank doors open. There were screams. Panda dashed down the sidewalk and into the bank, knives drawn, heart pounding. The doors banged shut again behind him.

Everyone inside was frozen, or perhaps just seemed that way because the adrenaline had kicked in and Panda was in fast-mode. There were fifteen or so customers, four tellers behind the desks, two guards visible. Water was all over the floor, sheeting down from the sprinklers. Everyone was wet and frightened. One of the tellers pushed something on their desk and nothing happened. They looked a little _more_ frightened. Apparently the security screens had been on the main power grid.

"Good _morning,_ everyone!" Nilesy cried, grinning his head off. "If you'd all be so good as to get on the ground, my associate won't have to slit your fucking throats!"

_"Guard, left,"_ Zylus said in Panda's ear. Panda zipped off and knocked the gun out of the security guard's hand before it was all the way out of its holster.

"Tsk tsk," he said, holding the blade of one of his knives against the guard's throat. "Don't do _that,_ somebody'll get hurt."

Slowly, the guard raised their hands and got on their knees. Nilesy was still talking— _performing—_ behind Panda.

"Now, if everyone can keep their heads and not do anything _stupid,_ we'll have a perfectly pleasant affair and nobody'll get hurt," he said. The sprinklers were still going. The water he'd knocked the doors in with was swirling around his feet like a dust devil. Even though everyone else in the bank was drenched, he was still perfectly dry. "If the lovely people behind the desks will come out here, I'd much appreciate it."

_"Middle right ish going for the alarm,"_ Zylus whispered. Before Panda had even turned around, there was a horrible splintering crash, and somebody screamed. Nilesy grinned at one of the tellers while a long tendril of water slithered back out of the ruins of their portion of the main desk.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," he said sweetly.

_"You went in too loud, somebody's calling the police,"_ Lomadia said in Panda's ear.

"Darling, kindly keep these people from hurting themselves," Nilesy said. He moved off towards the back of the bank, taking his miniature maelstrom with him. Panda turned to the room at large, knives at the ready. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the discarded gun quietly tuck itself behind a potted plant.

"Come on, you heard him!" Panda snapped. "Out from behind the desks, everybody on the floor!"

Carefully, the tellers came out from behind the smashed front desk. One by one, the patrons and employees all sat on the floor around the central kiosk, eyes darting, movements slow and deliberate. Panda herded them through it, snarling and snapping at them like a sheepdog. Like sheep, they obeyed him.

From the back of the bank, there was a volley of gunshots, eight in a row.

_"Don't move!"_ Zylus snarled into Panda's ear. Panda froze halfway to the corridor to the back of the bank, his heart in his throat. A body flew out of the corridor and impacted against the opposite wall so hard it left a blood-splat. It crumpled to the ground, unmoving. A moment later, a gun skidded out after it, spinning on the polished floor.

_"You fucking idiot, you killed him,"_ Zylus hissed.

_"Call me an idiot again, darling,"_ Nilesy purred back. _"I love it when you talk dirty to me."_

"For anybody who was wondering," Panda called, keeping his voice light although he was sick to his stomach, "that's what happens when you do stupid shit!"

A murmur ran through the hostages. They shifted where they sat, glancing at each other, licking their lips, flexing their fingers. Panda pulled himself together. One body wasn't so bad. It had been an accident. Nobody else had to get hurt, so long as they kept their heads.

_"Man in the green shirt'sh getting ideash,"_ Zylus mentioned. Panda spotted the man in question, sullen, white, muscle-bound. Panda sauntered over to him and leaned down right into his face, putting the tip of one knife under his chin.

"Wanna try something, mister?" he inquired.

"No," the man said, insolent.

"You're _sure?_ Come on, I'm sure you could take me in a fight. Save all these people from the big bad freaks."

_"Woman in the black dressh ish Powered,"_ Zylus said. _"Watch your back."_

"No," the man said again.

Panda gave the knife a little flick and nicked the man's jaw. He flinched and squeaked like a rat.

"Super! Keep it like that," said Panda.

There was a noise like a train wreck, ear-splitting. There was a squealing of metal, a cracking of stone. The whole building shook. Another ripple spread through the crowd. Panda forced himself to stay focused on the hostages.

_"I hear sirens,"_ Lomadia said.

"You really think you can—" one of the hostages began. Panda zipped over and kneed them in the jaw before they could get any further. They fell over onto their hands and knees, spitting blood.

"Yeah, I do," said Panda. "And if everybody keeps their fucking mouths shut, I think we can do it without anybody dying."

He paused, glancing at the guard and the pool of blood seeping out from under him. His gun, too, had mysteriously vanished when Panda wasn't looking.

"Anybody _else,"_ he amended.

Thirty seconds passed in tense silence. The sprinklers ran out of water, leaving the bank and its patrons soggy and cold.

_"They're_ _getting close_ _,"_ Lomadia said, a note of warning in her voice.

_"Nileshy, hurry the fuck up,"_ said Zylus.

Not ten seconds later, Nilesy stepped back out into the main room, four full duffel bags hanging from his shoulders.

Which was when everything went wrong.

Zylus shouted suddenly in Panda's ear at the same moment that the woman in the black dress kicked off the central kiosk and zipped across the room, moving so fast she blurred. Panda lost traction on the slick, wet marble and fell, slicing his own arm open with one of his knives and cracking his head against the floor so hard he saw sparks. He scrambled back to his feet but the woman already had a gun in her hand, snatched from the belt of the other security guard, and there was a deafening _bang_ and Nilesy staggered like he'd been punched in the chest. Panda flung himself full-speed into the woman and knocked her to the ground, but the first guard had managed to get hold of one of the discarded guns and was taking aim and the woman was clawing at Panda like a wild thing and blood was dripping onto the floor at Nilesy's feet.

The first guard's arm snapped before they could fire, bending backwards at the elbow, and they screamed briefly before something struck them in the face and knocked them out cold. Panda scrambled to wrest the gun away from the woman, but she was at least as fast as he was, and strong, and ferocious. They grappled on the floor, nails and elbows and teeth, and she fired so close to his head that it was like taking a screwdriver through the eardrum and the world went silent.

All the water on the floor started to shiver, then to froth, like the ground itself was vibrating. Panda wrested one hand free and stabbed the woman six times in the chest before she could shoot him. She died quickly. There was nothing but ringing in his left ear. The right one was stuffed with cotton. He clambered to his feet to see Zylus holding a gun on all the hostages, his green bird mask settled on his face.

He wasn't looking at the hostages. He was looking at Nilesy. Everyone was looking at Nilesy. Nilesy was standing perfectly still, staring at the blood on his hand. There was a drooping red flower painted on his shirt, spilling down from his shoulder. The water at his feet was boiling.

_"Liam—"_ Zylus said, his voice muffled like it was underwater.

The next seconds were such chaos that Panda never quite remembered how it all happened. The building shook with earthquake tremors. Water exploded from the walls and ceiling. Bodies jerked and flew across the room like they'd been picked up by a tornado, like some child-god was playing dolls. There was broken glass and masonry and mud, stinging rain and splintered wood. There was blood. There was an _awful_ lot of blood.

The first thing he knew for certain was that he was holding the mask—Nilesy's mask—in his hand, and everything had gotten very quiet. Someone grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away, and he wasn't sure if it was the police. He was stuffed into a car, and Nilesy half-thrown in after him. Everything was wet and smelled of blood.

_"Drive,"_ Zylus snarled. The world lurched into motion, squealing tires and the scent of burning rubber. Nilesy lay half across Panda's lap, pale and shivering. Something warm and sticky was seeping into Panda's trousers, and he slowly became aware that it was blood. The copper smell of it was chokingly thick.

"What—what _happened?"_ Rythian asked, his voice high and thin, terrified. "What did you do? What even—what was—"

"Shut the fuck up," said Zylus. "Lom, update. Where do we go?"

_"They're coming in from the east,"_ she said over the radio. _"Don't go that way. Is everybody okay? I saw blood, I heard lots of screaming."_

"Lalna, get ush the fuck out of here," Zylus said, ignoring her. "Panda, put shomething on that arm, you're bleeding everywhere."

Panda, dazed and sick, looked down at his own arm. Indeed, there was a deep gash in his biceps, dripping blood onto Nilesy and the interior of the car. With shaking hands, he took off his jacket and balled it up, squashing it against the gash to try and stem the bleeding.

Meanwhile, Zylus had bodily hauled Nilesy over and was putting pressure on the bullet wound in his shoulder. He was cursing under his breath fervently and incessantly. He looked like he might throw up any second.

"Panda, hand thoshe fucking bagsh to Rythian," he snapped, dropping his litany of cursing for a moment. Panda fumbled to get hold of the two duffel bags that had made it into the car with them and passed them up to Rythian in the passenger's seat.

"Is he—is Niles okay?" he managed to ask. His voice was shaking and sounded all wrong. He still couldn't hear out of his left ear. Lalna had somehow managed to get them out of the downtown area and was looping around the city towards the prearranged transfer point. They were driving much too slowly for Panda's liking.

"Let'sh shee, he jusht killed at _leasht_ fifteen people," Zylus said, his lip curling. "How fucking okay _should_ he be?"

Panda looked away. The mask, he noted, was lying on the floor at his feet. There was blood spattered on it. He could swear it was watching him, a terrible consciousness somewhere behind the flimsy white skin and hollow eyes. He flipped it over with his foot and tucked it under Rythian's seat.

"Oh, Christ," Rythian whispered.

"Shut up and count," said Zylus.

"Does it _matter?"_ Rythian said, his voice cracking. "Christ, we're—we—"

"Shut up," Zylus hissed, "and _count."_

Silence fell in the car. Once, Panda caught sight of blue flashing lights in the mirrors, but no police caught up with them. By the time they made it to the transfer point, he was light-headed. The ringing silence in his left ear was getting painful, accompanied by a slow oozing sensation. Zylus dragged Nilesy out of the car and Panda followed, some vague feeling trying to be felt but unable to get through the shock. Lomadia dropped down out of the sky, her wings fluffed up and her eyes wide.

"He's hurt," she said, with eyes for Nilesy alone.

"We—we should keep moving," Rythian said. He had a duffel bag under either arm and looked about as dizzy and disoriented as Panda felt.

"Medical care is necessary for both Panda and Nilesy," Lalna said, their voice quiet. Their eyes had turned bright white.

"Then hurry up and get in the car," Zylus said.

"I can stitch them up if we can stop for a little while," said Lomadia.

"Later," said Zylus. "They'll keep."

It took some doing, mostly by Zylus, but eventually they all managed to pack themselves into the car. Lomadia and the money went into the trunk. Lalna drove, Rythian stayed in the passenger's seat where he was least likely to electrocute someone. Panda, Zylus, and Nilesy were crammed into the back. Nilesy was unresponsive and couldn't keep pressure on his own wounds, so Zylus and Panda took turns doing it for him. They drove for another half hour before Lalna pulled off on a deserted, unpaved road into the woods and refused to go any further until medical care had been given. Lomadia clambered out of the trunk, having managed to pull together enough supplies to get everyone stitched up. She'd found a big red first-aid kit buried in the trunk with _SOUNDS_ written on it in big block letters, which, although it didn't have everything, at least had disinfectant and bandages. Lomadia had brought her own needle and thread.

Panda and Nilesy both sat on the back of the car while Lomadia saw to them. Rythian and Lalna were a few paces off, clinging to each other. Zylus was still with Nilesy, coaxing him into doing something or other. Panda tuned in, if only to get his mind off the pain of being stitched up. Listening was hard, especially since the two of them were to his left, where he could mostly only hear ringing.

"Yesh, it will hurt like hell," Zylus was saying. "But the lasht thing you want ish a bullet shtuck in you. I know you can get it back out. Jusht be careful. You can do thish. We don't have the shuppliesh to get it out for you. It'sh your own blood. It'll lishten to you."

Panda turned his head, watching. Nilesy was shivering, white as a sheet, his eyes unfocused. Zylus was holding both his hands and looking very intently into his face. As Panda watched, Zylus sighed.

"Jusht a shecond," he said, and kissed Nilesy's forehead, and went back around to the front of the car. He came back with a half-pint bottle of gin, mostly full.

"How long've you had _that?"_ Panda demanded. "And where the fuck have you been keep—"

"Not important," Zylus cut him off. He uncapped the bottle and foisted it on Nilesy. After a moment, he sighed and rolled his eyes and helped Nilesy drink. A little color came back into Nilesy's face as he winced and coughed. He managed the second sip on his own, and the third, and then Zylus took the bottle away from him. There was blood smeared all over the glass. In one go, Zylus slugged down twice as much as Nilesy had without so much as flinching. Panda looked away again. Watching Lomadia put the needle through his skin was less painful, after all.

"I'm almost done," she told him. "Like, three more."

"Deep breathsh," Zylus murmured to Nilesy. "It won't take long."

"Hey Ryth, how much did we get?" Panda asked, mostly so he wouldn't have to listen to whatever happened next. His voice was thin and febrile, ready to shatter at any moment.

"Um," said Rythian. "A-about . . . twenty thousand? I think?"

"Twenty-two thousand," said Lomadia. "I counted while we were driving."

"At least there's _one_ thing we haven't fucked up," said Panda, trying to be funny and failing. He made the mistake of glancing at Nilesy. Zylus was holding his face in his hands, petting his cheeks with his thumbs. Nilesy was crying, silently, steadily, his hands clenched on Zylus's wrists. There were spatters of blood on his shirt that weren't his. Panda gulped, a whole host of different fears scuttling around under his skin, only some of them for his own safety.

Suddenly, Nilesy flinched and yelped and folded in on himself, like he'd been stung by something. Lomadia jumped in the midst of tying off the knot at the end of Panda's stitches and yanked painfully on the thread.

"I know, I know," Zylus said, while Nilesy shivered and whimpered. "It'll be over shoon."

Nilesy shook his head, his breathing short and ragged. Zylus tugged him down off the back of the car and propped him up against the bumper.

"Zy, just—just leave it," said Panda, pained. "We'll figure something else out, don't make him—just don't."

"The longer it shtaysh in there, the worshe it'sh going to be," Zylus said, never taking his eyes off Nilesy.

"Well—then get Lalna to do something about it, I'm sure they can figure something out!" Panda cried.

Lomadia got out the first-aid kit and rooted around it in for a bit. She pulled out some gauze and tape and started bandaging the cut on Panda's arm.

"It will be very difficult to remove the shrapnel from Nilesy's shoulder without surgical tools," Lalna said quietly.

"There's got to be some tweezers in that kit," said Panda. "We could use them, couldn't we?"

"Without access to a local anesthetic, any attempt to remove the shrapnel will be extremely painful," they said. "I believe allowing Nilesy to remove the shrapnel himself is the best option currently available."

_"Allowing,_ bullshit," said Panda. "He doesn't _want_ to do it, he's not—"

"You have no fucking idea what he wantsh," Zylus snapped.

"Oh, fuck off, Zy," he retorted. "I'm sick and fucking tired of listening to you pretend you know everything."

"I sure ash fuck know more than _you—"_

"Why don't we," Rythian interrupted, _"ask_ Nilesy what he wants?"

Zylus glared at him, then turned his attention back to Nilesy.

"Nileshy?" he asked softly. "Do you want to keep trying?"

Sniffling, Nilesy nodded. Zylus shot a pointed look at Panda, who had to restrain himself from throwing something. Preferably something sharp. Preferably at Zylus's _head._

Lomadia, meanwhile, had finished bandaging Panda's arm. She knelt down and touched Nilesy's shoulder with her fingertips. Nilesy shuddered and shut his eyes, shrinking away from her.

"It'll be okay," she said.

Nilesy took three quick, deep breaths, and his face scrunched up with effort. He screamed through his teeth and threw his head back, cracking it against the trunk of the car, writhing where he sat. Lomadia caught his head before he could do it again, and his hands stayed clenched white-knuckled on Zylus's wrists, and blood oozed and then poured from the wound in his shoulder. Amongst the blood, some misshapen lumps fell out and tumbled to the ground. Nilesy subsided against the back of the car, shivering and gasping and whimpering. Zylus gathered him into his arms and Lomadia hurriedly mopped up the blood with more gauze, tutting and cooing.

Panda slid down off the back of the car, walked a few paces away, and threw up. Then he walked a little further away, until the deafened ringing in his ears drowned out the sound of Nilesy's sobbing. It was quiet in the woods, and cool. The leaves had just started turning colors with autumn, and the canopy was thick and opaque.

Eventually, to his surprise, it was Rythian who came and got him.

"Hey," he said, approaching from Panda's sighted side and waving awkwardly. "We're . . . about to go."

"Great, thanks," said Panda, heading back towards the car, not looking at Rythian.

"Um," said Rythian. Panda stopped, rolling his eye.

"What?" he said.

Rythian walked up and held something out with both hands. It was, to Panda's surprise, a knife.

"This is . . . yours," said Rythian. "I thought you should . . . have it back. Probably."

Panda looked at the knife, and then at Rythian. Rythian was sheepish, eyes darting, face flushed.

"Thanks," said Panda. "If I grab it, do I get zapped?"

"I don't—think so?" said Rythian. "As long as you use both hands?"

"What about my pancreas, does _that_ short out?"

"Um," said Rythian, withdrawing the knife slightly. "M-maybe. That—yes. Probably."

Panda shrugged. "Whatever. Keep it. I've got loads."

"Oh. Okay," said Rythian. He looked at the knife for a second, then stuck it in his pocket. "Thanks. Um."

_"What."_

Rythian took a deep breath.

"I'm . . . sorry."

"For?"

"For—for being shitty to you for, like, a year and a half. For . . . the whole, um. Nilesy thing. When that was a thing. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, whatever," said Panda. He stalked past Rythian, heading for the car. After a few steps, he stopped again, and sighed.

"Um?" said Rythian.

"Thanks for . . . sticking up for Niles," said Panda.

"Oh," said Rythian. "It's just—of course."

Panda walked off before things got any more awkward.


	31. Chapter 30

Nano woke in the night in agony.

It hurt so bad she couldn't breathe, couldn't make a sound. She tumbled out of bed, fumbling at her chest, her back. Her skin was slick with fluid, her clothes dissolving under her fingers. The smell of acid was so thick in her nose it made her want to vomit. She wasn't sure how long it went on for, two minutes or five or eight, but eventually the pain started to fade, like a muscle cramp relaxing. She lay on the floor for a while, drenched in her own acidic slime, her clothes in fizzing tatters. She had her hands pressed to the tumors on her head and chest. They were definitively bigger now, and she could feel—

What, structures? There were odd lumps, especially on the one on her chest. Gingerly, she touched the one on her back and found similar changes—it was bigger, still oozing slime, and was taking some kind of shape beyond its customary long oval.

After a few minutes of just lying there, breathing, she carefully sat up. It was the middle of the night, she wasn't sure how late, but certainly far off from wake-up call. There would be a guard on duty, but yelling for them might earn her more trouble than help. Besides, she didn't hurt _now,_ it didn't seem terribly urgent that she be given medical care (although a shower and another set of clothes would have been very welcome). In the dim light spilling through the tiny window, she could see the sheen of slime smeared all over the floor, like a massive slug had come squelching up through the central drain and gone for a wander. She pulled her knees up to her chest and shivered. It was starting to get cold, the summer slowly slipping towards autumn, and being naked and drenched was not helping the situation.

The worst case scenario, she thought, was if whoever came to check on her thought she had been trying to escape. That seemed less likely if she called the person herself, rather than being discovered in the morning. It would also make her less likely to be paraded about in front of all the other women naked, or at least in a dissolving set of clothes. On the other hand, calling attention to oneself in prison was never a good idea—she might end up annoying one of the guards and making an enemy, which would do her no favors in the future. She wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen, but she knew she didn't want to make anybody _more_ likely to shoot her.

In the end, she decided it would be best to just wait for morning and be taken care of then. If another attack happened, she reasoned, she would call out and get prompt medical care—otherwise, it probably wasn't urgent. She did her best to sleep on the floor, not wanting to dissolve her bedclothes the same way she had her prison uniform. They would be much less likely to replace her sheets and mattress than they would her uniform.

As she lay there, trying to fall back to sleep, her fingertips kept wandering over the tumors, exploring, learning. Both of the ones on her torso had a similar shape—a rounded end and a knobbly end, connected in a smooth oval shape that protruded about half an inch from the normal lay of her skin. Further exploration, idle and sleepy, led her to discover two _more_ tumors atop her ribs, both on the left side. A sickness arose in her stomach then that precluded all sleep. She was absolutely certain that biopsies would yield the same results as those for the other three tumors. Benign, of course, although she could think of very little that was _benign_ about the minutes of acid hell she'd just gone through. It almost wasn't worth telling the medical personnel, except the guards would see them anyway when they came around. It wasn't like she could hide them, being naked and all.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she wished she'd called the lab and gotten those test results back.

* * *

 

True to Nano's expectations, she was both suspected of trying to escape and shuttled off to medical as quickly as possible. At the very least, they gave her a paper gown before she was hustled out of her cell, so there wasn't too much ogling and hooting as she went past the other prisoners. She still arrived in the exam room flushed and fidgety, irritated. Siobhan, one of the regular guards, stayed with her in the room while they waited for whatever medical personnel were coming. She was not a chatty one, and Nano didn't feel inclined to try to start a conversation anyway. Instead, she just sat on the exam table with her arms folded and her knees pinned together, resisting the temptation to fiddle with the paper gown.

Eventually, someone did come, one of the women who had first examined Nano's tumors. Her eyes passed over Nano with scarcely a flicker of recognition, and once again she did not introduce herself, and spoke mainly to Siobhan.

"What is it this time?" she asked.

"Same old," said Siobhan, gesturing briefly to Nano. "Found her drenched in slime and naked this morning. The things're worse."

"Hm," said the woman. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and crossed swiftly to Nano. Without asking, or even warning, she tugged the paper gown aside and examined the tumors. She found the two new ones on Nano's ribs and spent some time poking them. She pushed the short hair on Nano's head aside and examined that tumor, too, tutting.

"You can go," she said, quite suddenly, to Siobhan.

"Not really," said Siobhan.

"Then you can wait outside," said the woman.

Siobhan shrugged. "Whatever you say, doc," she muttered, and stepped outside.

The woman—doctor, Nano supposed—underwent a certain shift of posture. She shook her head and tutted some more, moving away.

"Tell me about last night," she said, fishing a blood pressure cuff out from a drawer.

"Oh," said Nano. "Um. Well, I—I woke up in . . . a lot of pain, and there was slime everywhere, and then after a while it stopped. I think the—the tumors got bigger. Just—during that. I've been checking on them _rather_ a lot."

"Where was the pain?" the doctor asked, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Nano's arm and taking out her stethoscope.

"I'm . . . not sure?" Nano said, thinking about it. The doctor checked her blood pressure, then went and wrote it down. "I think probably more on the left side than anywhere else."

"In the tumors, near them, under them?" the doctor prompted.

"Sort of . . . general?" she guessed.

The doctor returned and laid two fingers on Nano's wrist, looking at her watch. She went through all the rest of the motions of a normal checkup without making any more conversation. She looked at the tumors some more. She pressed on Nano's chest and back and ribs, frowning. She left Nano up on the exam table and went to the little desk, where she took off her gloves, got out a pen and a scrap of paper, and started writing things down.

"How's it . . . look?" Nano asked, wondering if she was allowed to speak.

"I don't know," said the doctor.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know," she repeated.

Nano sighed, pinching her lips together.

"Can I ask why you sent Siobhan off?"

"I don't like being watched."

"Not scared I'm going to take you as a hostage and make a break for it?"

"No," said the doctor, with absolute candor. Nano didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't try.

For a while, there was only the scratching of the doctor's pen. She was left-handed, and as she wrote, a gemstone glimmer caught Nano's eye.

"That's a lovely ring," Nano said hopefully.

The doctor looked down at her hand, as though she'd forgotten it was there. She smiled, ducking her head, and shrugged.

"Oh, yeah," she said, blushing. "It's—I'm really not supposed to be wearing it at work, but . . . well, she only proposed yesterday, and I can't really bear to take it off."

"Aww, that's _wonderful,"_ Nano said, a healthy sort of pain taking up her insides. "Congratulations to the both of you."

"Thanks," said the doctor.

"I've actually . . . I've got one on the outside, waiting for me," Nano said, kicking her feet idly. "I was sort of hoping to put a ring on her. Y'know. Eventually."

The doctor met her eyes, and a moment of understanding passed between them. The doctor twiddled her pen for a second, then set it down.

"Look," she said, clearly uncomfortable. "I'll um . . . I'll see if we can get some more rigorous tests ordered. An MRI or something, to make sure nothing on the inside has gone wrong. They don't _generally_ like spending money, but I've got the impression you're sort of a VIP, so . . . I'll see what I can do."

"I—thank you," said Nano, blinking. "Thank you so much."

The doctor shrugged, getting to her feet. "We've got to take care of each other, haven't we?"

"I s'pose nobody else is going to," said Nano, as the doctor headed for the door. "What's—d'you mind if I ask your name?"

The doctor hesitated, standing with her hand on the doorknob.

"Thúy An," she said.

"I'm Nano," said Nano. "It was very nice to meet you, Thuy An."

"Close," Thúy An said. "Could use a little work on the pronunciation."

"Sorry," said Nano. "I'll do better next time."

Thúy An smiled at her, then left the room, her engagement ring twinkling like a star.

* * *

 

Scarcely two days later, Ricci and Liz came to collect her for another surprise visit.

"It'd be nice to have some warning for these things," Nano sighed, a guard on each arm. They were gloved. She herself was wearing a new set of polyester clothes,because just her sweat had eaten holes in the standard nylon uniform in a little over twelve hours. She was constantly surrounded by the smell of dissolving concrete whenever she wasn't in her cell. They'd finally gotten wise to the fact that the metal cuffs were no good, so she was secured with plastic zipties.

"I'll get you a pager," Ricci said dryly.

"Day planner would be better," said Nano. "I don't know _how_ I'm going to fit in all these meetings _and_ my sixteen hours of mind-numbing boredom every day. It's highly discourteous."

"What, you don't like your book?" Ricci asked.

"I've had the same one for three weeks now," said Nano. "I like it fine, but I think it's lonely. Could use a friend, you know."

"Lonely books, wouldn't that be a shame," said Ricci. "I'll see what I can do."

"Give a mouse a cookie," Liz muttered. Ricci rolled her eyes at her.

Once again, they took her to the little meeting room, secured her to the chair (which fizzed alarmingly when her bare wrists touched it), and walked out. Once again, Nano was left waiting for several minutes before the buzzer announced that company was incoming. She pulled herself together and steeled herself for whatever game Strife was playing today.

The door opened and Marcus Hulmes of the YogLabs Administrative Board walked in, pleasant and rounded and well-dressed, smiling his innocuous little smile with a twinkle in his eye.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" Nano blurted, before she could stop herself.

"Good afternoon to you, too," said Hulmes, raising his eyebrows. He put his things down and settled into the chairopposite her. "I hope you're well, although I know, unfortunately, that you're not."

Nano spat on the table. It smoked and bubbled slightly. Hulmes raised an eyebrow.

"All right," he said. He took out some papers and shuffled them. "I did hope you'd let me give my spiel before we got to the hostility."

"Your spiel on _what?"_ she said.

"Consequences," Hulmes said simply.

"For who?" Nano prompted.

"Well, everyone, really," said Hulmes. "It goes a bit like this: we on the Board are not terrifically pleased with Mr. Strife for going behind our backs. _But,_ we imagine your friends aren't particularly pleased with him _either._ The reason he's kidnapped you is because _he_ isn't pleased with _them._ So either they kill him and he faces the consequences of circumventing the Board, or he kills them and _they_ face the consequences of murdering Dr. Xephos! It's all very neat. Oh, yes, and of course there's you. Facing the consequences of turning traitor and joining up with a _known serial killer_ and his accomplices, dearie me."

"And what d'you think happens to _you_ if my friends come out on top?" Nano asked. "Who d'you think is next on the list?"

"Oh, I never said they wouldn't be facing consequences _anyway,"_ said Hulmes. "You all will, naturally. Can't just be letting you get away with attempting to crumble the entire power-structure of our organization, hah hah!"

"Hah hah," Nano said dryly. "So Strife dies, and then _we_ all die."

"No, no no no, goodness, no," said Hulmes, still laughing. "Ideally, none of you would die. YogLabs these days is _not_ a fan of corpses."

"Why, because they're not as _useful?"_

"Oh, no, there's a good many uses for corpses," Hulmes said brightly. "We just dislike making our own. Store-bought is fine."

"Turned over a new leaf, have you?" Nano asked.

"Well, yes, in a way," said Hulmes. "Granted, it's from the same _tree,_ but a new leaf nonetheless!"

"What tree is that, the genocide tree?"

_"Genocide_ is such an ugly word, Dr. Sounds," Hulmes said, shaking his head. "And it doesn't really _work,_ you see. Oh, there's been a few cases, a few native tribes here and there, but more often than not you just end up with a messy war and a dead dictator. That was really what was wrong with Xephos's ideas. He was all very gung-ho about genocide, and look where that landed him! Dictator dead already. We find genocide to be a bit . . . silly. Imprecise. Heavy-handed, to say the least."

"Oh, really? And I suppose you've got something _so_ much better?" she sneered.

"Well, yes," Hulmes said mildly. "It's very difficult to exterminate a people, you see. But . . . we've exterminated polio. We've exterminated smallpox. We've even got rid of sickle-cell anemia, which is inspiring! My point _is,_ being Powered is an _illness,_ and we intend to cure it before it becomes an epidemic."

Nano stared at him. "Oh, fuck _you,"_ she said. "Fuck you and fuck your stupid genocidal—"

"It's not genocide!" Hulmes said, throwing his hands up. "We're not _killing_ anyone! We're _curing_ you. Fixing you up into normal human beings again. And, when that's not possible . . . sterilizing you."

"I beg your fucking _pardon?"_ Nano growled, her fists clenching.

Hulmes raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I know, I know, it's extreme and horrific and dictatorly. But _honestly,_ Dr. Sounds, it's got to be done. And you must admit that our methods are more humane than Xephos's. He was a madman, a murderer. He hated every Powered person on a deep and—and _visceral_ level. The rest of us, though, we haven't got a problem with _you._ Just with your Powers."

"Why?" she cried, while the arms of the chair slowly dissolved out from under her. "What the fuck have _my_ Powers ever done to _you?"_

"Nothing, really," Hulmes admitted. "It's what they'll do to the overall _population_ that we've got an issue with. Generationally, I mean."

"What?"

"The percentage of Powered individuals doubles every thirty years or so," Hulmes said, casting his eyes to the ceiling. "Which means that in less than three hundred years, there won't be any of _us_ left! I don't know about you, Dr. Sounds, but I don't fancy the idea of total extermination of my kind."

"Ext—that's _exactly_ what you're doing!"

"Well," said Hulmes, shrugging. He smiled. "Yes! But it's inevitably going to be one or the other, and I'll tell you what, it's not going to be _my_ progeny swallowed up by the mutant tide."

"God forbid _you_ should have any progeny," she snarled.

"Bit late for that, I'm afraid," he said. "Still! We're getting off topic. You wanted to know what I was doing here."

"I'd just _love_ to," she said, her lip curling.

"I came to offer you a deal, Dr. Sounds," Hulmes said, sobering. "We've caught on to your . . . current issues. We'd like to make them stop."

"What, by _curing_ me?"

"That was the idea, yes," said Hulmes. "You'd make a _lovely_ poster child, we all agreed. Except Mr. Strife, of course, because he wasn't invited." He added, as though it was some kind of bonus: "Dr. Nguyen has mentioned that you're in quite a bit of pain."

"Fuck you," said Nano.

"Is that your final answer?" Hulmes asked, his eyes sparkling.

"No, my _final_ answer is _go crawl back up your daddy's dickhole,_ you hideous, bigoted cumstain," she retorted.

"Well!" Hulmes exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest. "I suppose then I'll leave you to your _consequences,_ Dr. Sounds."

"You're not getting out of this alive," she growled, as he collected his things and got to his feet.

"That's the funny thing about life," Hulmes mused, moving to the door and pressing the buzzer. "Nobody gets out of it alive."

The door opened, and a pair of guards let him out, and he smiled pleasantly at them as he went.

* * *

 

Four days after that, she had another attack. This one was in the middle of outdoors-time, and the pain was so intense that she actually blacked out briefly. One moment she was lying on the ground in spasming agony, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on her side on some kind of gurney, being carted through the prison's corridors. She wasn't quite lucid, couldn't manage to ask any questions even though the pain had mostly gone. She stayed disoriented and muzzy for at least an hour afterwards, and by the time she'd achieved clarity there were some very serious discussions going on.

Thúy An was there, speaking intently on the phone. Ricci was there, waxen and wide-eyed. Several more medical personnel were bustling about, absorbed in their work.

"Sir, if you want to see it for yourself, you're more than welcome," Thúy An was saying, her voice hard and stern. "I'm not changing my recommendation. This is much more serious than we thought, and there's no telling how much worse it will get."

"Who. . . ?" Nano asked quietly, glancing between Ricci and Thúy An.

"Your patron saint," said Ricci. "For a given value of _saint."_

"Strife?"

"Yep."

Nano looked down at herself. They'd taken the polyester clothes off of her, left her naked under a paper sheet on an exam table.

There was an arm sticking out of her chest.

She stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending. It was short, stunted, fat, like a babydoll's arm. There were five nubby fingers sticking off the end, lacking fingernails. As she watched, they curled in briefly, a sleepy twitch of the muscles. With a shaking hand, she reached over her shoulder and felt her back. Sure enough, there was a second arm sticking out. It recoiled slightly when she touched it.

Nano dragged herself to the edge of the exam table and threw up over the side.

"That's not even the worst part," Ricci said.

"Don't," Nano begged, on the verge of throwing up again.

"Okay," said Ricci.

_"What the fuck,"_ Nano gasped, shaking, her skin crawling. "What the fuck, what the _fuck,_ what the _fuck. . . ."_

"Yeah," said Ricci. "That about sums it up."

"Good," Thúy An said, with some finality. "We'll have her ready to go." She put her phone away, then came to Nano's side. "Hey. We're having you transferred to a dedicated medical facility."

"Not YogLabs," Nano gasped, terror taking her heart in its fist.

Thúy An laid a hand on her arm. "No," she said. "Mr. Strife's own. There's good people there. They'll get you taken care of."

"What's _happening_ to me?" Nano asked, her voice thin and quavering, tears slipping from her eyes.

Thúy An pursed her lips and patted Nano's shoulder.

"Hang in there," she said. She moved away again.

At some point, they gave her a sedative of some description, maybe to calm her down or maybe to make her transportation less worrisome. She wasn't exactly knocked out, but the world did get very fast and very blurry and very colorful. She didn't honestly mind too much. It was difficult to be scared when her mind had been reduced to an impressionist painting.

Through all of it, her brain did manage to hang on to one concern, playing it over and over in its addled state. At the time, it seemed like the most important thing in the whole world.

_How's Lom going to find me now?_ she wondered.

She couldn't think of an answer.


	32. Chapter 31

Nilesy had been in a permanent state of dislocation ever since the bank heist, like someone had popped his mind out of its socket and nobody had bothered to put it back. He forgot to eat if he wasn't presented with food. His voice was hopelessly lost, his eyes always out of focus. He couldn't even get out of the car unless someone opened his door for him. He was aware that they had reached New York, although he wasn't sure if it had taken several days or several hours.

Probably more than one day, because he vaguely recalled a hotel room and a shower, cold water against the makeshift stitches in his chest. No one would touch him. He wasn't entirely sure he was even there. Maybe he was a ghost, just tagging along. Maybe the bullet had gone through his heart, and he was going to be like this forever, haunting them, invisible and intangible, ruinous and lost.

At some point, Zylus left them. That was about when Nilesy started to drift back towards coherence, tugged by the threads of fear. If Zylus wasn't there, what was he going to do? What if the others decided, after this latest disaster, that Nilesy really was too unstable to bring along with them? What if they sent him away somewhere, somewhere horrible and cold and white, and Zylus wasn't there to stop them?

He spent a very tense few minutes (hours?) watching closely while Rythian drove them along the Long Island docks, making note of every turn, every street name, every corner, just in case he had to run for it. He was having trouble remembering more than two things at a time, and this left him half-panicked. Trying to listen in on the conversation going on in the car was pointless, because it made him lose track of his street names and because he couldn't keep their words in his head, either. By the time Rythian finally parked the car under an overpass, near an abandoned warehouse, Nilesy could scarcely breathe, too frightened for thought. Perhaps they wouldn't bother sending him away. There were no witnesses here. They could dump his body in the warehouse, let the police find it as they searched for Parvis's murderer, as they searched for the perpetrators of the bank massacre. All the others, Lomadia and Panda and Rythian and Lalna, could slaughter him right here like a sacrificial lamb and at this point he would _thank_ them for it.

Panda opened his door for him. Dutifully, Nilesy got out, though he was shaking almost too hard to stand.

"What if it doesn't work?" Lomadia was asking, worrying the pinions of one wing with her fingers. "What if they don't take the money and they tell the police?"

"I guess we run for it," said Panda. He shut the door once Nilesy was out, and the loud _thud_ of it made him jump. "Though I've no idea where to."

"I've already arranged for our transport," Lalna said. "I indicated that we would be paying in cash. There shouldn't be any problems."

"I think she's talking about when Zylus bribes them to not ask for our papers," Rythian said.

"Oh," said Lalna, their eyes turning purple. "That _is_ a problematic aspect."

The wind changed and he was struck by the smell of the sea, brine and dead things and rust, and—

_Come along, Liam, we haven't got all day. I've already made your appointment, I should hate to have to reschedule because we missed the boat. Come along, don't you want to go home?_

—he had to catch himself against the car, sick and dizzy. Panda noticed, and reached out a hand like he was going to touch him, but pulled back before he actually did.

"Niles?" he said.

Nilesy couldn't find his voice, so he just shook his head. Panda made a concerned face and sighed.

"Is it the thing?" Lomadia asked. "It was really bad, does it hurt? I'm sure there's some stuff for pain in Nano's kit—"

He shook his head again. The wind changed back and allowed him to breathe, ensconced safely in the stench of asphalt and old urine.

"Doesn't hurt," he managed, not because it didn't, but because the last thing he wanted was anybody sticking drugs in him. What if they gave him too much, carted him off while he was sleepy and helpless, or what if they just put him down right then and there, like an animal—

"Okay," Lomadia said, sounding unsure.

"It's possible that he's suffering the effects of blood loss," Lalna said. "Dizziness and light-headedness are common for several days after heavy bleeding."

"Y-yeah, maybe," said Panda. "Niles, why don't you sit in the car while we wait? I think there's still a couple bottles of juice from the last time we stopped."

He willed his legs to move, his arms to reach for the car door, but to no avail. He just stood there, paralyzed, cold echoes ringing in his ears.

"For fuck's sake," Panda muttered to himself. _"_ _Nilesy,_ do you need me to open the door for you?"

The patronizing, impatient tone of Panda's voice was like barbed-wire wrapped around his head. Nilesy shut his eyes, trying his damnedest to make himself move, but he just _couldn't._ He could feel the ocean, distant, but so huge and so _heavy_ that it tilted the whole earth towards it. He had to open his eyes again before the gravity of it toppled him onto the gravel.

"I'll—I'll get it," Rythian said, his voice far-off and muffled. Out of the corner of his eye, Nilesy could see him fumbling with something black and shiny, probably a rubber glove.

"No, it's fine!" said Panda, his voice light and exasperated. "Maybe he just doesn't want to get in the car. _I_ couldn't possibly know. Apparently."

"You're upsetting him," Lomadia said. "And you're being mean."

_Stop talking about me like I'm not here,_ he wanted to snarl, but his voice was so far gone it wasn't even a part of him anymore. It had leapt through his parted lips and galloped off to dive into the ocean, gleeful, like a dog.

And maybe he wasn't there, really. Maybe he was just a ghost.

"Good! I want to be mean," said Panda. "When Zy gets back, I'll go on being mean, because he'll probably be fucking drunk again _somehow_ and won't be able to hear me thinking it at him as hard as I fucking can."

"It's not helping," said Lomadia.

"It's helping _me,"_ said Panda. "He's lucky I don't punch him in the nose."

Someone moved up behind Nilesy and he went rigid, unable to jump away but terrified nonetheless. He heard the soft _tunk_ of the car door being opened, the squeal of its hinges.

"Nilesy?" Rythian said quietly.

Now that somebody had done the hard work for him, now that there was a clear and open threshold to step over, he managed to make himself move. He got into the car, stiff and dizzy. Rythian looked in at him for a moment, then shut the door.

It was quieter in the car, the others' voices muffled and indistinct. He shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the seat in front of him, arms wrapped around his waist.

He thought about how easy it would be for them to lock him in there, for Rythian to ignite the tank with a spark, for him to _burn. . . ._

The car door opened again, and Nilesy sat up with a start. To his surprise, it wasn't Rythian or Panda looking down at him, but Zylus.

"Come on," he said gently, tipping his head towards the outdoors. "Time to go."

Confused, his head spinning, Nilesy creaked his way out of the car. His joints seemed to have frozen up, his eyes gummed over. There was a fog in his head like sleep, and he wondered if he might be dreaming.

"You were ashleep," Zylus said to him, staying at his elbow as he tottered away from the car. "They got everything out of the trunk already."

Nilesy glanced back over his shoulder. Panda had the gas cap open and was talking to Rythian, who stood nearby wringing his hands. Lomadia and Lalna were nowhere to be seen.

"Everything went fine," Zylus mentioned. "They took the bribe. Not planning to rat ush out. If that'sh any consholation."

It wasn't. Rythian and Panda were having some kind of argument. It involved a lot of gesturing and a lot of eye-rolling. Zylus sighed.

"I don't think they were planning on leaving you in there," he said. "But—let'sh jusht shay I'm glad I got back when I did."

A shiver ran through Nilesy. He reached out, absently, for Zylus's arm. Zylus stepped away politely, and Nilesy's hand closed on empty air.

"Not yet," said Zylus. "Not here."

They left the gravel wasteland underneath the overpass, headed back to the docks. It was crowded and noisy, and eventually Zylus let Nilesy hold onto his sleeve to keep from getting lost in the crowd. Nilesy kept glancing back over his shoulder. Eventually he saw thick, oily black smoke, rising up near the overpass.

_Cinead and Adrien, screaming in agony—_

"Nileshy," Zylus snapped. "Eyesh forward."

Nilesy returned his gaze to the path ahead, the crowds, the docks. He did not look back again.

Somehow, some way, they made it to the ship. It was a huge black log of a thing, sitting low in the water, loaded up with blue and red shipping containers. A long gangplank connected it to the wharf, and the sea slapped at its iron hull. The water was brown, opaque, littered with debris and refuse. As Nilesy was led up the gangplank, he couldn't stop looking at it, tugged as if by magnetism towards it. The smell of brine was thick in his nostrils, shortening his breath, leaving him more lightheaded than ever. He could tell it was cold. He could tell it was immeasurably vast. He was practically already sinking.

There was a room, and Zylus put him in it. He did not touch Nilesy, not once, not even now that no one was looking. The bed was small and hard and uncomfortable, the room cramped. The paint was flaking from the rusted steel walls. It was cold, and the blankets were thin. There was no window.

The ship was large enough that he hardly felt the motion when they set off, no pitch or yaw as they plowed through the water. There was barely any change when they left the sheltered harbor and entered the rolling swell of the open sea.

But he felt it, felt the implacable _mass_ of it beneath him, that wide gray abyssal thing so cold and uncaring. He could feel it stretching away across the limb of the earth, and against its vastness the heat of his being was damped. It was easy to be small, here. A peculiar calmness overtook him, flooding his mind and numbing his body.

After the first day, he started spending time up on the deck. By the third day, he almost never left it. Before the end of the week, he was practically glued to the railing, the salted breeze whipping at his hair and scouring his face, the roar of the engines drowning out his thoughts. The white tips of waves flitting through his vision seemed to be cohering, becoming meaningful. The slap of the sea against the iron hull began to ring with the sound of voices.

He rarely slept anymore. It was easy to be at peace, so far from land, so surrounded by that chill and weighty presence. He stood under the full moon and could sense it pulling at him, tidal. He felt something swim below, disturbing the currents.

Slowly, he became aware that he was not alone.

"I could just . . . go," he said quietly. The ocean was cold and gray, limned in silver from the moonlight. It smelled like home. It smelled like agony.

Zylus leaned his elbows on the railing next to Nilesy, staring out at the ocean. He, too, was made cold and beautiful by the moonlight, like a thing long dead and preserved under glass.

"What makesh you think you've earned the right to walk away?" he asked quietly.

Nilesy didn't answer. Waves slapped the sides of the ship. The engine rumbled. The smell of brine and petrol left him feeling small and old and shriveled, thin at the edges.

"It's worse, in salt water," he said at last. "Takes longer. Hurts worse. But after. . . ."

"I know," said Zylus.

"I should've frozen to death," said Nilesy. "Should've come out . . . covered in sores. From the salt."

"You alsho should have drowned," Zylus pointed out.

"I _belong_ down there," Nilesy whispered, staring down at the ocean, wide and deep and inky in the night. His hands tightened on the railing, flaking off chips of jagged rust.

"Not yet," Zylus said. He touched Nilesy's wrist with two warm fingers. Nilesy's whole body lit up in colors, all the breath sighed out of him. The ocean seemed suddenly distant, unimportant, lacking in the face of more immediate sensation. "We shtill need you here."

"Zylus," Nilesy breathed. His whole body was squirming and aching like an empty stomach. His eyes kept trying to roll back in his head. He was hot all over and shaking and tingling. Nobody had touched him, at all, in over a week, and he was _starving_ for it.

Zylus wrapped his hand around Nilesy's wrist and tugged, very gently.

"Yesh," he said.

Nilesy tore his eyes away from the ocean, his heart leaping into his throat, his guts in tangles.

"But not here," said Zylus. He tipped his head towards the stacked shipping containers. His eyes were dark in the moonlight, his skin pale and opaline.

Nilesy allowed himself to be led away, out of the sight of prying eyes, into a narrow corridor between two shipping containers where the smell of the sea was not so strong, where the moonlight was dim and the slap of the waves was quieter. Zylus pushed him up against a shipping container and tangled a hand in his hair and pulled, hard, and kissed his neck, and Nilesy fell apart. He clutched at Zylus's shirt, helpless with wanting, hating himself for every second of it, hating how it made him burn and ache.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, over and over, trembling and crying and desperate for _more,_ the words spilling over his lips like brine. Zylus bit his neck and he whimpered, yanking on his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Zylus pressed against him, his body warm and solid and heavy, and it wasn't enough, it was _never enough,_ and all he could do was whimper and plead, shaking with the effort of keeping his hands to himself.

Zylus pulled away, just slightly, his lips still brushing Nilesy's neck, his fingers still tangled tightly in his hair.

_"God_ you're pathetic," he hissed, disgusted.

"I'm sorry," Nilesy said again. "I'm sorry, I'm—"

Zylus kissed him to shut him up, to cut off his pitiful apologies before they got any more embarrassing. Nilesy tried to make it worth it, tried to take what he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn't stop crying long enough to breathe, sick with himself and cold and full of icy gray water. Eventually Zylus broke off and stepped back from him, leaving him colder and grayer than before. Nilesy wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, biting back sobs.

"I'm never enough for you, am I," Zylus said quietly, angrily.

"No," Nilesy gasped. "No, I—I'm—"

"Jusht—shut up. Jusht shut up, Nileshy. For two fucking shecondsh."

He folded over on himself, unable to hold back the sobs anymore, his lips pulled back from his teeth in pain. Zylus gathered him into his arms, slowly, gently, but it only made the sobbing worse. He stroked Nilesy's hair, kissed his ear.

"I'm shorry," he said. "I wish I could be everything you need me to be. I'm shorry, Nileshy. I'm shorry I'm not enough."

Nilesy shook his head, incapable of speaking. He clutched Zylus's shirt, desperate for something to hold onto.

_Tell me I'm dreaming,_ he thought, he begged. _Tell me this isn't real._

"It'sh real, Nileshy," Zylus murmured. "I'm shorry. It'sh real."

"Please," he whispered. "Anything, please—please—"

"You can't ashk me for thish, Nileshy," Zylus said, pained. "You know I can't shay no to you. _Pleashe_ don't ashk me for thish."

Weeping, sick, hating himself more than anything in the world, all he could say was, _"Anything."_

Zylus stood there, stroking his hair, silent. He sighed. He rested his hand on the back of Nilesy's neck, skin to skin, and it was electric and terrible.

"Becaushe I love you," Zylus said. "And becaushe no one elshe ever will."

Nilesy collapsed against him, and Zylus half-carried him back to his room, back to where it was warm and smelled of nutmeg and pine, and Zylus drank half a bottle of gin in front of him and his lips were all the sweeter for it, his hands no colder because they were clumsy and drunk. Everywhere Nilesy touched him seemed to bloom with bruises, every breath and whimper was like foul smoke in the air. The hunger of his skin could not be sated, not with hands nor lips nor teeth nor fingernails. He wished he was dead. He wished it was over.

Zylus let him drink the other half of the bottle of gin. He did not remember much of anything else.

* * *

 

Things were worse than ever in the morning, a nightmare he couldn't possibly wake up from. Between the bruises on his neck and the matching ones that must have been on Zylus's, it was unfathomable that anybody _wouldn't_ know what had happened. He slunk back to his room and locked himself in. He couldn't bear to be seen, burning with shame, sick to his stomach. He waited on tenterhooks for Panda and Lomadia to find him, to seek him out and rip him apart, metaphorically or literally.

_Cheater. Liar. Scum._

The cold agony of the sea was looking better every minute.

Eventually it was Panda who found him, weeping and shivering in his bed, messy and pathetic and disgusting. He'd knocked lightly and Nilesy hadn't answered, and he'd come in anyway. Nilesy had been halfway through tugging the broken threads out of his stitches, having popped them at some point during the night.

"Jesus _Christ,_ Niles, what the hell—" Panda began, hurrying into the room. Nilesy shrank away instinctively, waiting for a blow that didn't come.

"Niles?" Panda said quietly, trepidatious. The bruises on Nilesy's neck ached and burned, his skin hot with shame, his stomach full of maggots. He dug his fingernails into his arm so hard it made his knuckles ache, so hard the pain turned to numbness.

"You should go," he said, eyes down, head lowered.

He heard Panda take two more steps and then stop.

"Nilesy," he said, a note of warning in his voice. "What the fuck is on your neck?"

Nilesy's hands tightened, his stomach shriveled up and his heart contracted painfully.

"Please go," he whispered.

"Who the fuck were you with last night?" Panda demanded, furious. "Because I know for a goddamn _fact_ it wasn't Lom. Who was it? Rythian? Are we back to that old—"

"No," said Nilesy.

_"No?"_ said Panda, his ire rising. "Then fucking who? Fucking _who,_ Nilesy? God fucking _dammit,_ what the fuck is _wrong_ with you, what—what—"

"Zylus," Nilesy said.

Panda stopped short.

"No you didn't," he said. "No you fucking _didn't._ That's bullshit, he wouldn't— _he_ fucking wouldn't, he—you—"

"It's over," he said sharply, heading off the accusations before they could begin, cutting Panda off before the blame could fall and he was crushed beneath it.

"What the _fuck_ are you _talking_ about?" Panda retorted. "What the hell is going _on_ with you?"

"It's _over,"_ he repeated. "You and me, _this,_ it's over."

For a moment, there was silence.

_"What?"_ Panda said, thin and hoarse.

"You heard me," said Nilesy.

"Niles—wait, hang on just a second, I wasn't—I didn't—look, I'm . . . yes, I'm fucking furious with you, but—but this isn't—this doesn't have to be—look, we can . . . we can fix this! We—I _want_ to fix it. Okay? I want—"

"I don't," he said.

"Why?" Panda said, helpless and baffled, like he didn't know.

"I've hurt you enough," Nilesy said. "Please just go."

"Niles, no, you haven't—okay, yes, it hurts like hell, but—come on, I think I ought to get to decide when I've been hurt too much. You don't have to—you shouldn't—"

"I fucked your best friend," Nilesy interrupted, harsh and hateful.

"Like fucking hell you did!" Panda retorted. "Zy would _never—"_

"Just _go!"_ Nilesy snarled, his voice cracking, tears leaping to his eyes and prickling his sinuses. "Just fucking _go,_ Panda! It's over, it's done, go _away!_ Just leave me alone, just—just fucking leave me _alone,_ for God's sake!"

There was another moment of silence.

"Fine," Panda said coldly. "But don't come fucking crawling back to me when the crazy wears off."

Nilesy said nothing. Panda sighed.

"I'm . . . sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that."

"Don't lie to me," Nilesy said thickly. He heard Panda take a breath and braced himself for whatever was coming next. Instead of a hail of abuse, however, all he heard was the door opening.

"I still love you, Niles," Panda said quietly, brokenly. "Even after all this, I just—I want you to know. I still love you."

"What the fuck did I _just_ say?" Nilesy uttered, scarcely able to speak past the lump in his throat.

After a moment of hesitation, the door slammed shut. Nilesy flinched at the sound, then curled in closer to himself, crying ugly, snotty tears.

One down, one to go.

* * *

 

He knew it would be worse with Lomadia, infinitely worse, and it was only his inability to make himself get out of bed that stopped him from jumping over the side of the ship before she could catch up with him. She was already nearly in tears by the time she came in the room, probably having encountered Panda or, worse, Zylus. Something in him shut down when she came in, all the sick guilt draining away to a dull ache, all the fear fading to a background buzz. It was like watching a film, like he wasn't even inside his own body.

"Nilesy?" she said, so vulnerable and so hurt that it broke his heart, even if he only felt it as a muffled cracking, like glass wrapped in cloth.

"You know," he heard himself say, with hollow certainty.

"Panda's all upset, he said—he said you broke up with him, he said you . . . he said something about you and Zylus, but it didn't make any sense. What's going on?"

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Breaking up with you, too."

"No you're not," she said immediately, unquestioningly. He snapped back into himself, like an elastic pulled too far. He was stinging all over.

"Yes," he said, "I am."

"No you're _not,"_ she repeated. "That's stupid, why would you do that? Did I—did I do something? Did I do something wrong, Nilesy? I want to fix it, I can try to—"

"You can't fix it," he said.

"Maybe! Maybe I can! Just tell me, just let me try—"

"You can't _fix_ not loving me anymore," he said. "And I can't _fix_ having cheated on you, and it's better if we just—go our separate ways. You to Nano, and me to—me to—"

He couldn't bring himself to say it, sick to his stomach. Zylus probably wouldn't even have him. Nobody would have him. No one would _ever_ love him, and it was all his fault.

"No!" she cried. "No, you can't! I wouldn't—it would be okay, almost, maybe, if it was anybody else, but you can't stay with him! He—he talks to you all wrong, he says all the wrong things! You can't be with him!"

"Fuck off," he snapped. "You don't know _anything_ about him. What he's—what he's _done_ for me, what he's sacrificed for me, you don't know. You can't fucking tell me what to do."

"I'm trying to take care of you!"

"I don't _want_ you to! I've seen how far your fucking _care_ goes, and I don't want it!"

"Why are you _doing_ this?" she pleaded. "What _happened_ to you?"

"I woke the fuck up, that's what happened," he said. "And once you've got Nano back and I'm not fucking _useful_ anymore, you can have me shipped off somewhere nice and out of the way, like you _always_ fucking wanted!"

"I never wanted that! Why would you even think I wanted that?"

"You fucking thought it," he said. "All of you did, every last fucking one of you wants me locked up, you don't fucking _care_ about me."

"Says who? Says who, Zylus?"

"Get the fuck out," Nilesy said, a coal igniting in his chest, making him want to squirm. "Just get the fuck out."

"He's making you _worse,"_ she pressed. "He says all the wrong things and they make you _worse,_ and—"

"Of course _you'd_ fucking say that," he interrupted, before her words made the coal any hotter. "The only person in the goddamn _world_ who gives a shit about me, of course you'd want to make me hate him so I'd come _crawling_ back, so you could go on _taking care_ of me. I've had enough of having your fucking claws in me, you—you fucking _freak."_

She drew herself up, pale and wide-eyed, her jaw clenched and her wings fluffed out in anger.

"You don't mean that," she said.

"Don't fucking tell me what I mean," he said, going rigid. "Don't you _dare_ pretend you fucking know me."

"When he hurts you," she said, "you can still come find me, and I'll still love you, even though you're being horrible."

"Fuck off," he said. That coal in his chest was unbearably hot, threatening to burn its way out through his sternum.

"Bye," she said, and turned and stalked out, her wings trailing behind her.

Nilesy folded in on himself, clutching his chest, hollow and burning.

He wished Zylus were there, if only so he'd have something to hold on to.


	33. Chapter 32

Strife put off visiting Dr. Sounds as long as he possibly could.

It was much more pleasant to check in on the little dot of the Number 94 tracker, placidly blipping its way across the Atlantic. Much more pleasant to keep up with the Las Vegas news, where the police were still baffled by the body found dumped in the desert, where the man who choked on his drink in a back alley and the woman who drowned in her hotel bathtub were still "freak accidents" (oh, the irony). Those things were not his problem. Those things were going pretty much exactly as he'd anticipated.

Every other day or so he got a report from medical informing him that there had been yet another gruesome change in the morphology of Dr. Sounds. At this point, ten days after she'd been removed from the prison, he was almost afraid to see for himself.

Unfortunately, by his estimates her little friends were only a couple of days out from London, and shortly thereafter Bristol, which meant it was time to get everything in order. The plan had undergone some revision now that she was housed in Solutions Tower, albeit in a highly secured medical lab underneath the building proper. He still couldn't have a band of freaks busting in and ripping the place up. There were important things down there, like the miracle serum stolen from Ridge's people at YogLabs and, of course, the foundations of the entire building.

There was not a doubt in his mind that her would-be rescuers had no intention of harming her. Crazy as the Scottish one had sounded—and he'd sounded nuttier than a pecan farm—the look of horror and legitimate _anger_ on their sparky spokesman's face had betrayed them, as had the abrupt ending of the call. Whether or not the crazy one—he assumed it was Nilesy—intended to kill Dr. Sounds was moot. There was no way the others would let him get away with it.

One niggling point was the problem of the extra person—that unexpected voice that had sounded so uncannily like Xephos's old L41 robots. By Strife's reckoning, there should only have been six of them—Dr. Sounds, the diabetic kid, Nilesy, August Lindholm (a.k.a. "Rythian"), and the telepath, all of whom had been involved in the YogLabs prison break, plus the bird bimorph who'd been seen in association with the rest of them on more than one occasion. Strife supposed that one of them—the telepath, maybe, or at a stretch the bird—might have a coincidental vocal resemblance to the robots. Strife had heard so many of Xephos's little presentations with the things, though, that the cadence and the tone were burned into his head. They'd all had the same voice, right from the very start. He would have recognized it anywhere.

This knowledge, combined with the persistent and superstitious murmurs in Section L concerning the NB model, had given Strife quite a bit to think about. He was certain there was a hell of a lot to be gained from the business. He just wasn't quite sure _how._

Nonetheless, Strife still had a perfectly good piece of bait and/or hostage to work with, and he was relatively certain he could get what he wanted, which was several freaks in a _lot_ of pain.

Or at least he _had_ been certain, right up until Dr. Sounds had _stopped_ being perfectly good and started being a _horrifying_ _monstrosity_ _._

Strife sat at his desk mulling over the latest report from medical. He had his feet up on his desk and was smoking a cigar, enjoying neither one of these things. The report was short and to the point, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

 

_14-9-2036_

_Secondary limbs have continued to grow and protrude. Conjoined cranium now nearly independent, responsive to stimuli. Acidic secretions constant and consistent. Skin pigmentation continues to spread. MRI results: high-density tissue throughout left chest cavity, including primitive secondary heart, lungs, etc. No apparent adverse effects to function of main organs. Patient lucid but distressed._

_—Madhu Govind, MD_

 

"Yeah, I'll bet she is," Strife muttered to himself.

He finished his cigar and quickly checked on the Number 94 tracker again. It was about seven hundred miles out from London, a couple days' travel barring any disasters. Strife had, over the past weeks, developed an odd sort of affection for the little blip. Maybe, when all this was over, he'd have it cut back out and put it in a jar on his windowsill or something.

"Godspeed, little buddy," he said, saluting to the blip, and then locked his tablet and got to his feet. He took a moment to stretch the kinks out of his back, let his aching knees adjust to his weight. After shaking out his hands and feet, he gathered his things and headed for the elevator. His security guards nodded to him on the way past.

They were looking much more comfortable, now that he'd finally managed to get all the blood out of the carpets and had gotten the new potted sunflowers in. It probably helped that they, too, knew Parvis was never coming back.

The elevator ride was too slow for his liking, and he had to switch over to a different elevator once he reached the ground floor. By the time he got all the way down to medical, he was impatient, irritated, intractable. He snapped at the first orderly he saw and sent them scurrying off to find Dr. Govind. While he waited, tapping his foot and checking his watch incessantly, the two YogLabs liaisons who perpetually haunted the facility approached him, smiling affably. One of them, he gathered, was now head of Section L, although he was hard-pressed to remember which one.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Strife," said one of them. He barely spared them a glance.

"Uh, hi," he said. "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said the other. "We simply, mhm, wanted to pass a pleasant greeting on our way out."

"The facility looks ship-shape, as always," said the first.

"Very well-kept. We do appreciate being allowed to continue our, hmm, oversight of the operation."

"Sure, whatever," said Strife.

"Oh dear, Gray, I believe we may be wasting Mr. Strife's time," said the first.

"Unfortunately, Robin, it seems that most things are a waste of Mr. Strife's time," the other lamented.

"One does wonder, then, what business is so important as to bring him all the way down here, just to have him wait."

"Oversight," Strife sneered.

The two looked at each other and raised an eyebrow, simultaneously. The younger one smirked.

"Of course," said the older. "So much to oversee, mhm, mhm."

"Too much, indeed, for us to get through in a day's work."

"Ah, yes, the north wing."

Strife's heart skipped a beat. The liaisons were still making eye contact with each other.

"It's so unfortunate, Gray," said the first. "We seem to have run out of time to, hmm, examine that particular part of the facility."

"It simply fell at the end of our list, Robin," said the other.

"Perhaps it would be wise to rearrange our schedule for the next visit, hmm?"

"In two weeks' time, yes."

"Indeed. And I think we've wasted enough of Mr. Strife's time, don't you?"

"Entirely too much."

They smiled at him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Strife," said the younger one.

"And, mhm, congratulations on a very well-maintained facility," said the older.

"We will be certain to give you glowing remarks in our, hmm, report," said the younger.

"Do take care, mhm, mhm."

The two of them moved off into the elevator. Strife watched them go, his scalp prickling. He stood very still until the elevator had gone.

"Lizzie!" he called at last.

"Yes, sir?" the security guard said, perking up in her Lexan-shielded office.

Strife gestured weakly to the elevator. "Next time those two Section L weirdos come in here, uhh, let me know. Right away."

She frowned, but just said, "Yes, sir."

Just then, Dr. Govind came around the corner, and Strife was forced to pull himself together. They shook hands, and Govind led him back towards the north wing.

"You read my report?" Govind asked.

"All of 'em," said Strife.

"And why the sudden interest now?"

"Because if she dies now, we're gonna have issues."

"I don't think there's any danger of that."

"Yeah, no, whether you _think_ it or not doesn't matter. I don't _think_ the building's gonna burn down, doesn't stop me from keeping the sprinkler system maintained."

"I see your point," said Govind. "Still: why now? I'd think that her death at any time would have been inopportune."

Strife rolled his eyes. "Do I pay you to ask questions, Mads?"

"Presumably, yes," said Govind. "That's a thing that scientists tend to do."

"You ask _other people_ questions," he said. "Not me."

She shrugged. "If that's what you'd prefer to be paying me for."

Govind pressed her thumb to a scanner by a door and entered a code. The door opened, and she let Strife in, following after him. The north wing was small, almost cozy, a short corridor of labs and service closets ending in a cul-de-sac of offices. Govind led him to one of the labs and unlocked that one, too. Strife hesitated before going in, bracing himself.

"Is it uh," he said. "Is it bad?"

"It is uniquely horrifying," Govind said, with a twinkle in her eye. "After you, Mr. Strife."

Strife squared his shoulders and walked in, braced for the worst.

The lab was small, cluttered. There were cabinets and drawers and medical machineries, a computer and a conference phone. There was a large glass tank, rectangular, its long side against the floor. It was about a quarter full of slightly milky water. It also contained Dr. Sounds, who was clothed in a loose nylon dress that hung limply from spaghetti straps over her shoulders. She was watching Strife with distaste, standing as tall as she could in her . . . _condition._

There was a fat, ugly, Cabbage-Patch-reject of a thing growing out of the left side of her body. Its face was hideous, bulbous, squat; its arms were pudgy and swollen. As he watched, the tumorous feet kicked discontentedly.

Dr. Sounds herself was distended, puffy and discolored, like her entire left side was a mass of horrible blisters. There was a dark, purplish mottling across her skin, spreading out over her chest and face, all the way to her opposite shoulder. When she moved her arms, the homunculus's arms would twitch in sympathy; when she spoke, its squashed face tried to mouth along.

"Holy _God,_ you got ugly," Strife exclaimed.

Her lip curled. "Where's my hug?" she asked. Her voice was rough, hoarse.

"Jesus H. Christ on a _bike,"_ Strife said.

Dr. Sounds thumped the glass with a fist. Strife jumped, and she leered at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You don't like hugs?"

"I thought you said she was distressed?" Strife said out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his eyes on Dr. Sounds.

"Oh, very," Dr. Govind said smugly. "Aren't you? Aren't we all. It's highly distressing."

He glared at her. She smiled at him.

"Get out," he said, cocking a thumb at the door.

"Yes, _sir,"_ said Dr. Govind. She breezed out like she owned the place.

 _"You,"_ Strife said, jabbing a finger at Dr. Sounds, "are a bad influence. Every single goddamn woman you talk to gets _uppity_ with me two days later."

"Next thing you know they'll be wearing trousers and demanding votes," Dr. Sounds sneered.

"Jesus Christ," Strife muttered to himself. "Coulda just stayed upstairs. _Coulda_ just taken her word for it."

"It's called _banter,_ sweetheart," said Dr. Sounds. "Get used to it."

Strife opened his mouth. He closed it again. He tipped his head in allowance.

"Okay," he said, "I deserved that one. So uh, you're not dying or whatever? Great, good to know, see ya."

"I hope Nilesy rips your fucking arms off," she snarled.

Strife blinked at her. He took his hand off the doorknob, turned slowly, leaned up against the wall and folded his arms.

"You wanna know what I got planned for the little psycho?" he inquired.

"Don't use that word."

"What, _psycho?_ Yeah, no, I'm keeping that one, get used to it."

"You are absolutely the most insufferable _bigot_ I've ever laid eyes on," she said. "And that's _including_ Xephos."

"Well, y'know, ol' Xephos was a freak, too," Strife said easily. "Not to mention being nuts. They kinda go together, freaks and crazy. Like white on rice. He got _real_ touchy if you called him a freak, though. Nearly strangled me, once."

"Pity he didn't finish the job," said Nano. The little baby fists growing out of her clenched feebly.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," said Strife. He wished he had a cigar, just so he'd have a prop. He always felt so much more relaxed when he was breathing smoke.

Plus, it pissed people off. There was no substitute for that.

"So you wanna know what I'm gonna do to your psycho, or not?" he asked.

"I've got the feeling you're going to tell me anyway," Dr. Sounds said, "because you're just that far up your own arse."

"Y'know, just for that, I will," said Strife, smiling. "And before you get any smart ideas, yeah, I know you people have a telepath. I also know his effective range, his migraine issue, his predisposition for nosebleeds, and his coherence threshold, plus the invisibility thing. All nice and neat in his YogLabs file. They ran _so_ so so many tests on that poor sonnuva gun. Must've been hell on wheels."

Here, he would have puffed the cigar, for emphasis.

"Y'know, funny thing," he mused, "they ran a bunch of tests on your other little buddies, too. August. The diabetic kid. Your—"

"What, you haven't got _his_ name figured out?" she interrupted sharply.

"Y'know, I would, except it doesn't matter," said Strife. "On account of I can turn one of his organs on and off with my phone. I figure with that kind of leverage, I can call him whatever I damn well please."

Dr. Sounds growled. The ugly baby thing kicked its feet.

"Anyway," said Strife. "Your little psycho. Hell of a lot of tests on that one, too. It's the darnedest thing, but the whole time they had him locked up in YogLabs, he was just the best little puppydog anybody could wish for. Got up right on time, always took his meds, sat real nice and still for all his tests. Y'know. After they tased him a couple dozen times."

He watched with some pleasure as Dr. Sounds's jaw locked up, her fists clenched, and her eyes got that bright, hot look that came with angry tears. He went on slowly, savoring the taste of it.

"Come to think of it," he mused, "most likely pretty much _everybody_ got tased. They really like their tasers over at the ol' Labs. Probably not Mr. Sparky. Though I dunno, somebody might've tried it, just to see what would happen. I know they got the diabetic kid at least a couple times. I managed to get hold of the security tapes. I watch 'em when I need a good cheering up."

"You're fucking sick," she spat.

"Aw gee, thanks," said Strife. "How long were they in there for, couple weeks? And that poor telepath getting migraines every single day, and your little diabetic buddy sucking dick for insulin—"

 _"Shut the fuck up!"_ Dr. Sounds snarled, flinging herself at the glass with such raw fury that for a moment Strife was terrified she would actually come crashing through. He managed to minimize his flinch, although he couldn't stop his heart from pounding wildly. He raised his hands and grinned.

"Not to mention what they did to poor August," he said. "But hey, you don't wanna hear about it, so I guess I won't tell you."

"You're a fucking liar," she uttered, hoarse, her lips curling away from her teeth. Acid slime was dripping off of her, falling into the water and making refractive swirls.

"Sure, maybe," said Strife. "You're never gonna know, though. 'Cause, y'know, funny thing we learned about all your little buddies. None of 'em are immune to _bullets._ Except _maybe_ that old L41 unit you're lugging around."

She went white, frozen in place. She didn't say anything, but her reaction was all the confirmation he needed.

"So here's how it goes," he went on, reveling. "Your telepath buddy goes invisible and walks in the front door of Eastwood Park, where they all still think you are. He doesn't trip the motion sensor, but he _does_ trip the pressure pad. We let him keep walking in because we want everybody else to come after him. He hears one of my folks thinking real hard about you being in cell eleventy-whatever and sends in the cavalry. Much too damn late, he figures out we're monitoring all radio frequencies in and out, and have been listening to all his conversations. We also know exactly where he is, so we shoot him in the back as soon as he's done reporting in. The _rest_ of your buddies come running in, metaphorical guns blazing, and encounter my people's _real_ guns, blazing."

"I thought you wanted Nilesy alive," Dr. Sounds said, although her voice was shaking.

"Oh, I never said we'd be shooting 'em _fatally,"_ said Strife. "Maybe August, 'cause he's too dangerous to live. The bird chick, because I don't give a damn about her. The—"

He saw Dr. Sounds's breath catch, her eyes go wide and her back go stiff. He made a mental note and kept talking.

"The telepath, I haven't made up my mind," he said. "'Cause on the one hand, he's awful inconvenient, and it sure would be fun to shoot him dead, just for the look on his face. On the other hand, _oh boy_ could I get inventive with a telepath. I've always kinda wondered what hallucinogens do to freaks like that. Besides, hah, you just stick him in the room with whoever and it's like, double the torture for the same price!"

Dr. Sounds didn't respond, simply staring him down. The baby-thing still had its fists balled and was kicking intermittently.

"As for the diabetic kid," he said softly. "I think I'm just gonna turn off his pancreas and _wait._ I could do worse, but he was just an accomplice, and besides, that seems like pretty much the nightmare-scenario for him, anyway. The L41, I'm keeping. Xephos promised me one, and he never delivered, so _technically,_ it's already my robot. I just gotta collect it."

"And me?" she demanded.

"You? Oh, you I'm just gonna leave in there until _that_ thing—" he gestured at the homunculus— "does whatever it's gonna do and either squishes your heart or eats you. And then I'll just wait for whoever survives to starve to death. But hey, bright side, you get one nice _big_ jar to be taken out in."

She didn't ask about Nilesy, but he was on a roll, so he decided to tell her anyway.

"Now, the psycho," he said, pushing off the wall and starting to pace. "I've been giving _that_ one a lotta thought. Y'know, what could I _possibly_ do to him that's uh . . . fitting, hey? I mean, first step is shutting his Powers down, because _holy_ crap, talk about nightmare scenarios. Definitely won't mind if whoever shoots him takes out both his knees. He won't need 'em anymore. Then I was thinking maybe we'd use him as a test subject for this new serum. Apparently it's supposed to be able to grow back limbs. I think we'll start small, with fingernails. Then fingers. Not the whole finger at once, of course, 'cause that's a little ambitious, hey? Nah, just the skin first. Then the meat. _Then_ the bone. And we'll work our way up from there, depending on how it goes. _Lots_ of science to get outta that one. Hey, if it goes well, maybe we can grow the diabetic kid a new pancreas! He'll be _dead_ by then, but y'know, it's the thought that counts."

"You're a fine fucking one to talk about _psychos,"_ Dr. Sounds said, her voice thick with revulsion or, possibly, tears.

"Hey, I give as good as I get," he said, shrugging. "I'd tell you more, but it might offend your delicate sensibilities."

"You don't have the stomach for torture," she spat.

"Eh, maybe not," he said, shrugging easily. "I'm sure I can pay somebody to do it for me."

"It's not going to work," she said. "None of this is going to work. They'll figure out where I am and they'll come for you. They're going to fucking kill you and every sick fuck in this building."

"Oh well hey, now by my math, that includes you," he said, leering at her. "So uh, no matter what, enjoy your last couple days on Earth, _sweetheart."_

He turned to go, shooting off a finger gun at her with a wink.

"All this," she said, "for _Xephos?"_

Strife hesitated.

"Nah," he said. "All this for me."

Quickly, before she could get in a parting shot, he left the room, shutting the door behind him. Dr. Govind was waiting outside, doing something on her phone.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" he snapped at her.

"Right now," she said calmly, "you're paying me not to ask questions. In fact, you're paying me overtime."

"Oh, am I?" he said. "And why the hell am I doing that?"

"So that I'll unhear that entire conversation," she said.

"Mads," he said, his voice taut with poorly-restrained fury,"you wanna know what the difference is between you and the freaks I'm gonna net in two days?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"The freaks are harder to kill," he said.

Dr. Govind was silent for a moment.

"Now that I think about it, my current salary is very generous," she said, toneless.

"Goddamn right it is," he snarled, and stalked off.


	34. Chapter 33

It took Lomadia two whole days to get Zylus alone.

They had some discussions, all of them except Nilesy, on what they were going to do when they made landfall to avoid having to hand over the papers they didn't have. Lomadia didn't pay much attention through them, seething with anger and betrayal. Panda, who stayed near her, was almost always crying and nearly never spoke up. Zylus barely spared either of them a second glance, although he must have known what was going on. Rythian and Lalna seemed confused, but they didn't bring it up.

Neither did Zylus, which was basically the only thing that drove off the doubts that threatened to cloud Lomadia's mind. She could discern no evidence that anything had happened between Nilesy and Zylus—certainly there were Nilesy's bruises, but Zylus didn't have any matching ones, no matter how hard she looked for them. She would have expected him to be more upset, more disgusted, more _wrong,_ but he mostly carried on like normal, once he got done being drunk.

Then again, that was pretty normal now, too.

Nonetheless, she bided her time and kept her ears and eyes open, and eventually managed to catch Zylus in one of the ship's corridors in the middle of the night, less than a day out from England.

She grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him up against the wall so hard it knocked his breath out.

 _"What did you do?"_ she growled, her wings filling up the corridor behind her.

Zylus looked up at her, only the barest hint of fear marring his expression.

"Nothing," he said. She shook him.

"You're lying," she said. "You did something and now Nilesy's all messed up."

"Nileshy'sh losht hish goddamn mind," said Zylus.

 _"Don't_ talk about him like that."

"Ash shomebody who hash to _deal_ with hish goddamn mind on a regular bashish, I think I get to judge," he retorted. "I know why he left you and Panda. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't lishten."

"You're lying again," she said. "You're _always_ lying, everything you say is a lie now!"

"I know what he _thinksh_ happened," said Zylus, "and that'sh why _you_ think it happened, too, but _it didn't._ Honesht to God, Lom, do you sherioushly think _I_ would—would shleep with him? With _anyone?"_

His lip was curling, and disgust was plain in his voice. She scowled at him and shook him again.

"You're doing something to him," she said. "You did something to him and made him worse. Every time you talk to him, he gets worse. You talk to him all wrong."

Just for an instant, Zylus's expression changed, flickering with something like _anger._

"I've been doing everything I can to _help_ him," he said. "It'sh not my fault it ishn't working."

"But he said—"

"I _know_ what he shaid," Zylus said, suddenly tired. "I shwear to you, Lom, I never touched him. It'sh being out here on the ocean, it'sh fucking with hish head. He makesh thingsh up and then he thinksh they really happened. He'sh hallushinating. And I'm shorry it got taken out on you and Panda, and I _tried_ to talk him out of it, but he won't _lishten_ to me. He won't lishten to anyone, you know he won't."

She glowered at him, lips pursed, while she tried to sort through all the words, all the possibilities and likelihoods. She wished desperately that Nano was with her, listening along and figuring everything out and putting it all together the right way. Nano _always_ knew what to do, especially when people were being sneaky.

"I heard you," she said. "I heard you talking to him. Back before the bank thing."

Zylus sighed. "I know," he said.

"You called him crazy."

"Becaushe he _ish_ crazy, Lom. Even he knowsh it, in hish clearer momentsh."

"You can't call him crazy, it's wrong."

"Then why didn't he tell me not to?" Zylus asked.

"Because he's—because he—he doesn't know what. . . ." She trailed off, uncertain.

"Becaushe he doeshn't undershtand what'sh happening to him?" Zylus suggested gently. "Becaushe he'sh not thinking clearly?"

"Well—well, I guess," she said.

"Lom, we both know there'sh shomething sherioushly wrong with him," he said. "He knowsh it, too. I mean, _honeshtly._ He broke up with you and Panda! That'sh nowhere _near_ normal. He _never_ would have done that if there washn't shomething wrong with hish brain."

"But—but there were the bruises," Lomadia said, seizing upon the one fact she knew to be true and indisputable. "You put bruises on him."

"No I fucking didn't," said Zylus, revolted. He sighed, reached up between her arms and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, Lom, there'sh more people on thish ship than jusht ush. I'm not going to out whoever he _actually_ ended up with, but I can tell you for a _fact_ it washn't me. Maybe he wishesh it wash, or that wash jusht the only way hish brain could make shenshe of it, but . . . that'sh not what happened. That'sh not _reality._ It'sh jusht him. Being . . . well, crazy."

Lomadia swallowed, unsettled and ill.

"But. . . ." she said, not quite sure what her objection was, but knowing something wasn't right.

"Nothing'sh _right_ about thish," Zylus said. "We jusht have to do the besht we can."

She searched his face for any sign of deceit, any flicker of that uncomfortable wrongness.

"We have to make it right," she said at last.

"Trusht me, I'm trying," he said. "Ash shoon ash we have Nano back, we can focush on getting Nileshy well again. We'll need to, before YogLabsh comesh after ush. But one thing at a time. All right?"

She shifted her weight, then finally let go of him. She stepped back, and Zylus smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt.

"All right," she said. "Did you tell Panda? All of this stuff, that it wasn't you?"

Zylus sighed. "Not yet," he said. "I should. Before he deshidesh to kill me."

"I don't think he ever really thought . . . you know," said Lomadia.

"Shometimesh he doesh," said Zylus. He smiled wryly. "Trusht me."

She chewed it over, frowning mightily.

"Okay," she said.

* * *

 

It took some doing, but they managed to get ashore without anybody seeing them or asking them for papers.

Lomadia flew herself in, taking off just before dawn on the day they were set to arrive. She only had to fly for a couple of hours to get to shore, which was painful, but manageable. She stayed high up and mostly let the wind carry her, although the low clouds made it hard to see. She came down quickly, south of the docks, looping around so that it looked like she'd flown in from London and not the ocean. She had to wait there another couple of hours, which was miserable, because it was sleeting and windy, but eventually the others caught up with her.

She saw them first as a distant bulge in the water, an odd, discolored patch that rolled up out of the ocean like a hamster ball. They were all of them inside it, Nilesy standing in the center of the ball with his hands out, the others sitting down around him. Lalna was so heavy they were distorting the ball, making a big dent in it, cradling Rythian in their arms so he wouldn't touch anybody. They coasted up onto shore and Nilesy dropped his hands, letting them all fall onto the icy sand. He promptly dropped to his knees and threw up, shaking like mad and gray as the clouds. Zylus knelt next to him and put a hand on his back. Lomadia darted down the beach and spread a wing over the two of them, trying to keep the sleet off.

"Is he okay?" she asked, frightened.

"Hish heart'sh shtill going," Zylus said, answering the question she'd wanted to ask. "But I think he'sh going to be pretty worn out for a while."

Rythian and Lalna and Panda had picked themselves up and were collecting the few little bags they'd brought with them. There wasn't much stuff, really—most of the money was already gone, and they'd traveled light ever since leaving Las Vegas.

 _"Fuck_ it's cold," Panda hissed, hugging himself. His breath clouded the air in front of him.

"It would be wise to find shelter," Lalna said.

"It would," Zylus agreed. "Come on, Nileshy, let'sh go shomewhere warm."

Nilesy didn't respond, and Zylus picked him up by his underarms and hoisted him to his feet. He kept an arm around Nilesy's waist as they walked—or rather, as he walked, and Nilesy stumbled along with him, looking like death. Lomadia kept both her wings out, trying to keep the sleet off of as many people as possible. Lalna walked out in the open, apparently not bothered by the cold.

It took them the better part of an hour to find a train bound for Bristol, but they managed it eventually. They got a lot of funny looks from everyone, and Rythian got so nervous that Lalna practically had to pick him up again as they wound through the crowds. Lomadia slept on the train, exhausted from her flight, although it was a patchy and uncomfortable sleep. By the time the train arrived in Bristol, it was dark, and they had to spend another hour wandering around to find a hotel with any open rooms. They were just about at the end of the money by then, but they managed to scrape together enough to get one room and something to eat. It was fast food, gross and soulless, but it was cheap and better than starving.

Despite everything, Lomadia found she couldn't sleep that night. She was all tangled up with worry, frightened about tomorrow's rescue attempt. They'd been talking an awful lot about it, but Nilesy still didn't look well and Panda had gone all funny and angry and Zylus was _still_ being uncomfortable. She didn't think it was a bad plan. It was pretty much the same plan they'd used for the bank, only instead of stealing money they'd be stealing Nano.

She didn't think they could pull it off. She didn't like having to wait outside while Nilesy and Panda and Zylus rescued Nano. She couldn't sit still, pacing endlessly. The movement kept waking Panda up, because he was probably just as nervous.

Eventually, she left the hotel room, and the hotel entirely, and took off flying.

The skies of Bristol were familiar—the lights, the noise, the cold clouds and fog, the smell of the river. She flew for some time, letting the wind wash all the thoughts out of her head, until her keen eyes alighted on something that gave her pause.

It was a tall building, red-black, square and ugly. Red lettering across the top spelled out _STRIFE SOLUTIONS._ Carefully, Lomadia angled her flight to take her closer. She circled the building several times, but there didn't seem to be anybody on the roof. Her wings were tired and her head was foggy, so she alighted on the sign and settled in, taking shelter in the curve of an _O._ She fluffed up her wings and hunched into herself, huddled against the cold. She waited, letting her ears attune.

To her surprise and immense gratification, she slowly became aware of a familiar voice.

 _"...don't have_ _time_ _for this crap,"_ William Strife was saying, his gruff American voice like gravel being driven on. He was annoyed, and also very close by. Carefully, Lomadia leaned outward, keeping her claws gripped on the sign. There was light spilling from a window just beneath her, orange and warm.

 _"Well, sir, whether or not you have time for it, it's happening,"_ another person replied, higher-pitched, British.

 _"Dammit, Mads, you had_ _one_ _job,"_ said Strife.

 _"Which I've done,"_ the other person, Mads, said coolly. _"It's beyond my capabilities to prevent Dr. Sounds from thinking, nor my job to keep her from making threats."_

Lomadia's heart stopped. She leaned a little further forward, so focused on listening that the rest of the world faded to a dim blur. She couldn't even feel the cold anymore.

 _"It's sure as hell not your job to be her carrier-pigeon,"_ Strife snapped.

_"I thought you would like to know, sir, that she claims YogLabs is well aware of your activities. If you would like to argue the_ _ accuracy _ _of that statement, I would direct you downstairs, where you can take it up with_ _ her. _ _"_

Biting her lip, Lomadia dug her claws into the sign, bending metal. Nano was _here._ Nano was in this building _right now,_ she just had to find her, just had to go in and _get_ her—but how? How could she find Nano, all by herself, without Zylus or anybody?

 _"Mads, get the hell out of my_ _room_ _,"_ Strife said. _"I'm not going anywhere."_

 _"Yes, sir,"_ said Mads. _"If you change your mind, I'm certain you can find your own way."_

_"Get the hell_ _ out! _ _"_

_"Yes, sir."_

There was the sound of a door closing, and then grumbling. Slowly, Lomadia tipped over the edge of the sign, dropping into a dive. She streaked past the window, catching a glimpse of what was inside—an opulent bedroom, a tall blond man, red carpets, red curtains, potted sunflowers. The man was in his pajamas, his back to the big picture window. She streaked past, rows and rows of windows flashing by her like a film. Most of them were dark. She opened her wings and pulled out of the dive, the forces straining her already tired muscles. Laboriously, she flew up to the next building over and perched on the rail, resettling herself. She watched as Strife, now a tiny dot in his picture window, stalked over and yanked the curtains closed. She shifted her weight. She considered.

She came to a decision very quickly. It was only glass. He was all alone.

Lomadia gained a considerable amount of height before starting her dive towards Strife's bedroom window. She was going so fast by the end that it was tugging the skin back from her teeth, making her eyes water. At the last second, she flipped around, feet-first, and then slammed into the window with approximately the force of a car-crash.

The glass was bulletproof. It still didn't stand a chance.

With a terrible shattering impact, she came smashing through the window, tearing the curtains down in a shower of glass spindles. She felt it pierce her arms and legs, but only shallowly. Strife screamed, and she leapt into the room, ignoring the pain, ignoring the snowstorm of glass and plastic, ignoring the curtains trying to tangle up her feet. Strife had tumbled out of bed and was trying to run for the door. With a single flap of her aching wings, she leapt across the distance between them and grabbed at him. He just managed to duck out of her hands, scrambling back until he hit the wall, white and terrified. She came after him, blood already on her claws, fury filling up her head with red smoke.

"Wait, _wait_ waitwaitwaitwait!" Strife squealed, cowering against the wall with his hands upraised. "I could—I could help you! I could—anything you want, _anything,_ just _please don't kill me!"_

Lomadia paused. She looked down at him, frowning. His silk pajamas hung on him limply, two of the buttons popped. Her claws tore ruts into the carpet as she flexed and curled them.

"Anything?" she said.

Strife nodded rapidly, like a bobble-head on a dirt road. "Yeah, yeah! You name it, it's yours. Money, power, a-anything you—"

Lomadia grabbed him by the pajama-shirt and yanked him up off the floor. He screamed, clutching at her hands, his feet kicking at thin air. Sweat was soaking through the red-and-black pattern of his pajamas. His eyes were full of tears.

"You're going to fix Panda's insides," she said.

"Wh—who? Who's—I don't—"

She shook him so hard his teeth rattled.

"You tricked him," she snarled. "You put things in him and now you can turn his diabetes on and off. You're going to _fix_ it."

His eyes widened with recognition. He gulped.

"Yeah, no, of—of course, I'll—I'll get my best people on it, right away, you—"

"Right _now,_ you're going to come with me to get Nano," she said.

"Wh—uhh, I, y'know I'm not sure that's such a good idea—"

"And then _she's_ going to tell you all the _other_ stuff you're going to give us."

"L-look, it's not—it's not that I don't _want_ to, uh, y'know, go, but, uh, just—"

She shook him again and he yelped like a kicked dog.

"If _anything_ bad's happened to her, I'm going to rip out all your guts," she snarled. "If you did _anything_ to hurt her, I'm going to hurt you a hundred times worse."

"I didn't— _I_ didn't—" Strife wheezed. He was crying. Lomadia slammed him against the wall, because he disgusted her. She heard all the air rush out of him in a heavy _oomph._

"If you try anything funny, I'll tear your arms off," she said. She grabbed him by the ear and hauled him towards the door. He stumbled along behind her, whining.

"Ow—let go, hey, c'mon—"

She pinched, digging in her fingernails, and he shut up. She dragged him out of his room. Just outside the door there was a guard, who had been standing very still and making no noise. They leapt into action the moment Lomadia came out, reaching for their gun.

"Don't!" Strife squealed, to Lomadia's great surprise. "It's uh—it's cool! It's fine. Take uh—take the rest of the night off! In fact. Uh. Yep. Yeah. Tell everybody else on this—this floor. Uh."

The guard looked between Strife and Lomadia. Lomadia glowered at him, fluffing up her wings and flexing her talons.

"Sir—" the guard said, easing the gun out of its holster.

"Th-this is uh, my uh . . . my daughter," Strife said.

The guard stared at him. Lomadia stared at him.

"I . . . didn't know—" the guard began.

"And you _don't_ know about it!" said Strife. "You know how stuff falls outta your head sometimes when you get a raise!"

The guard raised their eyebrows. They looked at Lomadia again. They clipped their gun in.

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of the phenomenon," they said.

"'Kay, good, get out," said Strife.

"Yes, sir," the guard said. They took one last look at Lomadia and then went off down the corridor. She heard them talking to other guards, repeating that they could take the rest of the night off.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded of Strife, when all the guards had gone.

"Uh, because I like having my arms attached to my body?" he guessed, his voice cracking.

Lomadia considered pressing the issue, but decided that _maybe_ pointing out to him that the guard could've just shot her was a bad idea. He might let the next one do it.

"You're not _really_ my—"

 _"No_ I'm not _really your._ Can we get _on_ with this?" he snapped.

"Are more people going to stop us?"

"No! Probably not! I don't know, how the hell should _I_ know?"

Lomadia considered for a moment, then switched her grip to Strife's arm, so it would look less like she was dragging him against his will. It seemed like the kind of thing Nano would do, although it was a lot less satisfying.

"If you take me anywhere but straight to Nano—" she warned.

"Yeah yeah, I'll fill in the blanks myself," Strife said. _"Jeez."_

"Do they hate you?" Lomadia asked, as she tugged Strife off down the corridor.

"Uh, do who—"

"The guard. I broke your window and they didn't come in to help you. Is it because they hate you?"

Strife gave her a very odd look. He pointed down a side corridor and said, "Uh, the uh . . . elevator's that way."

Lomadia hauled him off bodily, just to watch him stumble.

"Do they hate you, though?" she repeated, wondering if this might be a useful tactical advantage.

"No, they don't—my room's soundproof, all right? Which, y'know, in _hindsight,_ is a pretty damn stupid idea."

"It is," said Lomadia, pleased with him for figuring this out on his own. They reached the elevator and she pressed the _down_ button. The doors opened and she dragged Strife in.

"Yeah, well, there's . . . some stuff you don't want the help hearing," he muttered.

"Like sex?" she asked, her nose wrinkling. Strife went red.

"You—no, I—well, uh—you. . . ." He trailed off. When he spoke again, his voice was rather thin. "You hear pretty good, don't you."

"Yes," she said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you scream, I'll rip your head off."

He raised his hands as best he could. "Nope! No screaming. Nnnnno screaming at all."

The elevator went down and down, for what felt like forever. Even when they got to the bottom of the building, Strife just took her to another elevator that went _even further_ down. Lomadia started to get antsy then, not liking the feeling of being underground. She kept her hand tight on Strife's arm, even though he complained about it. If somebody jumped out to hurt her, she'd make sure to kill him while she had the chance.

Eventually the elevator did stop, and they came out into a shiny, clean area that looked a lot like a doctor's office. Almost nobody was there, except one more guard, who gave Strife and Lomadia a funny look but didn't say anything. Strife went off down a corridor and Lomadia went with him, keeping alert for any sign of foul play.

He took her through a locked door into another corridor, using his thumb on a little pad and entering a code. Then there was another locked door, which he hesitated in front of.

"Uh," he said, his eyes darting. "Uh, look, what's—what's going on in there isn't my—"

She slammed him into the door and held him against it.

"Open it," she said. Her heart was pounding, her wings hot and full of blood.

"Not my fault!" he wheezed. "Don't kill me!"

She twisted his arm behind his back until he yelped.

"Open the _door,"_ she growled.

Whimpering, Strife pressed his thumb to the little pad and mashed some numbers. The door clicked. Lomadia pushed it open and shoved Strife through so hard he fell on his face and slid two feet along the floor. She followed him in, ready to rip his spine out if _anything_ was amiss.

There was a tank with water in it.

There was Nano.

She got to her feet, mouth agape, eyes wide. She took a couple of sloshing steps through the water to press her hand to the glass. Something bobbed up and down on the surface of the water, but everything that wasn't Nano was blurred and indistinct. She'd put on weight, which was good. She was too pale from being inside all the time. There were some blotches on her skin, not bruises, just pretty purplish mottling. She was wearing an ugly dress thing made out of plastic.

She was _alive._

"Sweetheart?" Nano whispered, and her voice was like music.

"Hi," said Lomadia, while the world spun around her. "I came to rescue you."

Strife was still on the floor, on hands and knees, staring at Nano.

"Oh," he said. "You uh . . . you look . . . good."

Lomadia was on him in an instant, hauling him up by his ear again.

"Let her out," she ordered.

"Ow! I don't—I don't have the key, I can't!"

She shook him. "I don't care! You let her out right now!"

"Would you—hey—listen, I just said—"

"You heard the woman," Nano said smugly. "Let me out."

"I can't!"

Lomadia looked at him for a second, judged him useless, and dropped him again.

"Is there stuff in here? A key or something?" she asked Nano.

"I don't think so. They haven't opened it up since I got in here. There's a little flap they push food in through, and they've got a couple nozzles to change the buffer solution."

Lomadia found said flap and spent a moment examining it. It was basically a mail slot. There was no way Nano could get out through it.

While she was examining it, she saw the other thing in the tank. She pointed.

"What's _that?"_ she asked, her nose wrinkling.

Nano looked over at the dead, purple baby floating face-down in the water.

"My buddy," said Nano.

"It's dead," said Lomadia.

"And thank God," said Nano.

"Where did it _come_ from?" Lomadia asked. Maybe if it could fit inside somehow, Nano could fit back out.

"Me," said Nano. "It just popped off a couple of hours ago, which was _not_ pleasant, I'll tell you what."

"Were you, like, pregnant?" Lomadia asked, thoroughly puzzled.

"No," Nano sighed. "Just—honestly, Lom, I don't know, and I don't think I _want_ to know, and I'm just glad it's over."

"Okay," said Lomadia. She peered at the purple baby-thing again. "Are you _sure_ it's dead?"

Nano looked at it, too. She shied away a little.

"Y'know what, sweetheart, I don't really want to stick around to find out."

"Makes two of us," Strife muttered, his voice thick with revulsion.

"Shut up," Nano snapped at him. "Lom, while you're looking about, see if you can find any tranquilizers for Mr. Strife. He looks like he could do with some _rest."_

"No! No no, you don't have to—" Strife began. Lomadia turned her head around to glare at him and he shut up very quickly. She then set about looking for useful things in all the drawers and cabinets. While she didn't find any tranquilizers, she _did_ find a likely-looking key.

"If this doesn't work, I'm just going to smash it," she declared, coming around to the back side of the tank where there was an airlock-like door, secured with a padlock.

"Let's hope it works, then, because that's an awful lot of glass and I _am_ barefoot," Nano said.

Lomadia glanced at Strife to make sure he wasn't up to anything. He was still just sitting on the floor, watching the two of them. He didn't look at all menacing, in his sweaty silk pajamas with his face all saggy and tired.

"I told him you were going to tell him all the stuff he's going to give us," Lomadia informed Nano, as she tried the key in the lock.

"Oh, I've got a list all prepared," Nano assured her.

The lock clicked and came loose. Lomadia heaved the door open. Nano stepped out, carefully, delicately. She took a look around, nodded in satisfaction, and then shut the door again behind her. She held out a hand and Lomadia put the padlock in it. Nano locked the tank back.

Then she leapt up and flung her arms around Lomadia's neck and kissed her. Lomadia caught her, spun her around, hugging her so tight it made her arms ache. She was dizzy and hot all over and so full of light and love she thought she might burst. It burned and tingled just a bit to touch Nano's skin, but she couldn't possibly have cared, even though it hurt her lips something awful. Too soon, Nano broke off, and Lomadia had to put her back on the ground, although she didn't take her hands off Nano's hips.

"I missed you," Lomadia said, choked up.

"God, Lom, I missed you too," Nano said.

They looked in each other's eyes for a moment. They both looked at Strife.

He was just reaching out to open the door. He froze when they saw him, sneaky and sheepish. He shrugged.

"Didn't uh . . . didn't want to, uh, y'know . . . intrude?" he guessed.

"Lom, sweetheart," Nano said, turning to face Strife. "I need a shower and a change of clothes. If you could get everybody else together to keep an eye on our good friend Mr. Strife while I do, that would be _wonderful."_

"Sure," said Lomadia. "I'll have to call them at the hotel, though."

Strife blinked at her. Nano turned her head to look up at her.

"You—you came _alone?"_ Strife asked, his voice cracking.

Lomadia shrugged. "I couldn't sleep," she said.

Strife made a noise like a kettle boiling over, and Nano burst out laughing. Frowning, Lomadia decided that the best course of action was probably to keep hold of Strife, so she went over and grabbed him by the collar, just in case he decided to do anything stupid.

"I'll still rip your arms off," she told him.

"Fucking _freaks!"_ he snarled.

She hit him very hard in the stomach. He didn't say anything else.

* * *

 

It took some time, and a lot of convincing, to get everyone together. They ended up meeting in Strife's big office at the top of his building, because, as Zylus said, if he tried anything stupid they'd pull the whole building down with them. Strife had asked to be allowed to change out of his pajamas. Nano had just laughed at him.

She, however, was now dressed in some of Strife's clothes, very fine attire that suited her well. The sleeves and trousers had to be rolled up extensively, but otherwise they fit nicely. Strife ground his teeth every time he looked at her, which was amusing, and probably the whole point.

Nano kept a very close eye on Strife while the others came up, making sure he didn't say anything suspicious or press any wrong buttons. Lomadia stayed nearby, in case she got the chance to hit him again. It had been very satisfying the first time, and she couldn't imagine it would get less fun with repetition.

Finally, after almost two hours of guarding and arguing and giving very clear instructions to people who weren't listening, the doors to Strife's office opened, and the others filed in, one by one.

First came Zylus, looking cagy and sullen. Panda followed him, knives already in his hands, his eye bright with anger. Rythian and Lalna came after, Rythian all sparky and Lalna with their eyes fire-engine red. Nilesy entered last, downcast and quiet and, to Lomadia's discomfort, wearing the mask. Lomadia moved away from Strife, slowly, so as not to attract attention. It wasn't that she was frightened, precisely. She just had a very good sense of how hard it was to get blood out of her wings.

"Oh, God," Nano said, darting across the room. She made a beeline for Lalna and flung her arms around them, squeezing tightly. "Oh, God, Lal, I'm so glad you're all right."

They hugged her back, their eyes turning more pink than red.

"I came to get you," they said quietly.

"You did," she said. "And thank you. Thank you so much."

They patted her back. She let them go and immediately grabbed Rythian, hugging him, too. He made a surprised little squeak and stiffened up, like he wasn't sure what to do.

"And you," she said. "For all the talking and everything."

"You're . . . welcome?" Rythian said. "We—it's just that, we couldn't _not_ come get you. It's . . . balanced now? I-I guess?"

She snorted, then moved on to Panda, who she didn't squeeze quite as hard. It was possible this was just because he was holding knives.

"I'm glad _you're_ okay, too," she said. "Pancreas holding up okay?"

"For now," Panda said darkly. Strife made an uncomfortable little noise and Panda bared his teeth at him over Nano's shoulder.

"Good," said Nano. "We'll make sure it stays that way."

Then she moved on to Zylus, who she stuck to like he was magnetized.

 _"How are things?"_ she whispered, very quietly.

 _"Fucked,"_ he hissed back.

 _"I sort of figured,"_ she said.

 _"One thing at a time,"_ he said. He patted her shoulder, and she let him go. Slowly, she circumnavigated the group and got around to Nilesy, who did not look at her.

"Well, Mr. MacKay," she said primly. "My hatches are about as battened as they're going to be."

He did not respond, did not even lift his head. Nano's face pinched up with concern, and she very carefully hugged him, too. He went rigid, stopped breathing. Zylus sucked in a quick breath and tensed up.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm just . . . I'm sorry. For everything."

Nilesy just blinked, expressionless under the mask, his eyes shiny and wet.

"Jesus _Christ,"_ Strife grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Enough of the sweet stuff, you're gonna give me diabetes."

Zylus lunged for Panda before the sentence was all the way out of Strife's mouth. Even so, he just barely caught him in time, as Panda hurled himself snarling towards Strife. Zylus wrestled an arm around his waist and one over his shoulder and pinned him against his own chest, like a hostage in a crime show.

"Let me go!" Panda cried, struggling with such fervor that his limbs blurred. "Zy, let me the fuck go! I'll kill him! I'll fucking _kill_ him!"

The corner of Strife's mouth twisted in an unpleasant sort of a smile.

"Easy there, kiddo," he said. "I already promised I'd get you a new pancreas. Don't wanna kill me before I get that done for you, otherwise you're shit outta luck."

"We can manage without you," Zylus said, his lip curling. "Trusht me."

 _"Trusht_ you? Oh boy, this sure _is_ gonna be fun."

Lomadia moved a little farther away, back towards the others.

"Since you've decided to make an absolute _ass_ of yourself," Nano cut in, all business once again. "I think we're going to get on with our terms and conditions, now that we're all together."

"My favorite," Strife said dryly. "You mind if I smoke?"

"You will keep your hands on the desk," Lalna said quietly. Strife got small again for a moment, gulping.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said, watching Lalna. "This gonna take long? 'Cause, you people are really cuttin' into my beauty sleep."

"That's not the only fucking thing I'll be cutting into," Panda snarled.

"Panda," Zylus warned, still holding him tightly.

"Jeez, it's all violence with you people," Strife said, smiling his unpleasant little smile. "Maybe try a little diplomacy, hey?"

On the instant, Strife flew back like he'd been hit by a truck, toppling his chair over and slamming into the plate-glass window behind his desk so hard it cracked. Nano yelped, Rythian grabbed Lalna's arm, Zylus tightened his hold on Panda. Strife stayed there, a meter off the ground, gasping for breath and white with terror.

Slowly, Nilesy stepped forward, his head to one side, his movements slow and self-assured. He walked right up to Strife, and Strife looked down at him in abject terror.

"I _remember_ you," Nilesy said slowly. A grin spread across his face like water being soaked up by a paper towel. "D'you remember me, Mr. Strife? _Will?_ It was an _awfully_ long time ago."

Strife gasped and sputtered, trembling and wide-eyed.

"Nilesy, put him _down,"_ Nano ordered.

The glass cracked sharply, black lines spidering out through it, and Strife yelped.

"Oh, I'll put him down," Nilesy purred, his grin widening, his eyes never leaving Strife's face. "I'll put him down like the fucking dog he is. You _must_ remember me, _Will._ How could you forget?"

Strife wheezed, and a pair of tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. They, too, were pushed back across his face to the window, as though gravity had turned sideways.

 _"He doesn't bite_ _much,_ _Will,"_ Nilesy said, speaking in that proper British voice that made Lomadia's scalp itch. _"Honestly he's quite docile, provided you don't put your fingers near his mouth,_ _ahah_ _."_

Strife stopped breathing for a moment, and he made a strangled little noise and tried to struggle, to very little avail.

"You _do_ remember!" Nilesy crowed, delighted. The glass cracked again, sharply, thin lines spidering outward. Strife's eyes were going unfocused, his breath coming only in wheezes and whimpers.

"Vee, shtop," said Zylus.

"And why on _earth_ should I do a thing like that?" Nilesy asked, watching with pleasure as Strife suffocated.

"Becaushe thish ish Liam'sh baggage," Zylus said, "and there'sh no reashon for you to be carrying it for him."

Nilesy turned slowly and regarded him through half-lidded eyes. Zylus tensed, but stood his ground.

"You don't know anything about me, do you," Nilesy said quietly.

 _"Let me go,"_ Panda whispered. _"I can stop him, Zy, let me go."_

Zylus tightened his hold on Panda again, standing firm.

"Don't you ever get tired of being a weapon?" Zylus asked. Nilesy threw his head back and laughed. Slowly, Strife slid to the floor and started coughing and gasping.

"Oh, that's fucking _rich,_ coming from _you,"_ Nilesy said, his eyes now fixed on Zylus. Zylus paled and clenched his jaw.

"It doeshn't have to be like thish, Vee," he said, his voice shaking.

"Like what, Zylus darling?" Nilesy asked, his eyes glittering. "What d'you think I'm going to do to you? What d'you think you've _earned?"_

 _"Jesus Christ,"_ Strife gasped from the floor. Nilesy turned back to him and tipped his head to one side. After a moment's consideration, he took a knee in front of Strife and leaned in close, until his lips were nearly brushing Strife's ear.

 _"I know what you are,"_ he whispered, so quietly that even Lomadia could barely hear him. _"And you know what you did. And if you lay so much as a fucking finger on me or mine, I will turn you_ _inside out._ _"_

Strife gulped, frozen where he crouched on the floor. He gave a quick and jerky nod, and Nilesy stood up.

"Now that _that's_ all sorted," he said. "Zylus darling, why don't—"

Zylus let Panda go. There was a whirr and a gust of wind and Panda snatched the mask off of Nilesy's face and Zylus folded like he'd been punched in the gut. Nilesy stood very still, pale and wide-eyed. Panda tossed the mask to Lomadia, who caught it. Zylus straightened up and crossed the room quickly and took Nilesy's wrists, intent and gentle.

"All right, Nileshy," he said quietly. "Let'sh get you shomewhere quiet."

Nilesy didn't respond. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks.

"Come on, eashy doesh it," said Zylus. Gently, he led Nilesy from the room, speaking softly to him the whole time.

"I think," Nano said faintly, "maybe we'd _all_ better go find somewhere quiet."

"What the _shit,"_ Strife hissed, staring after Nilesy and Zylus.

"You're not off the hook, motherfucker," Panda spat at him.

Slowly, Strife got to his feet, unsteady. He tottered to his chair and set it back upright, then sat in it.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," he mumbled.

Lomadia came over and tugged on Panda's sleeve. She offered him the mask, and his jaw went tight.

"You hang onto it," he said. With a final venomous glare at Strife, he stalked out of the room.

"Rythian, Lal, you all right?" Nano asked.

"I am undamaged," Lalna said.

"F-fine," said Rythian. "I'm—yes. Fine."

"Would you two mind keeping an eye on our prisoner tonight?" she asked.

"Hey now," Strife said, sitting forward.

"If you think for one _second_ I'm going to leave you alone, you're twice as stupid as you look," Nano shot. "You're lucky I haven't put you in a fucking cage."

Strife raised his hands and sat back, rolling his eyes.

"Sure, fine, okay," he said. "We'll have a little get-to-know-you party. Just me and the robot and Sparks McGee. Hey, am I allowed to go back to bed? 'Cause, I'm pretty friggin' tired. Not that it'll be _warm,_ 'cause _somebody_ smashed my friggin' window in."

"I guess that's up to your new caretakers," Nano said lightly. "Lom, sweetheart, shall we go? I can't stand listening to this asshole talk anymore."

"All right," said Lomadia. She came to Nano and offered her arm, which Nano accepted. "We should go someplace."

"We _should,"_ Nano said. The two of them walked out of the room together, back into the corridor. "I wonder: is your nest still useable, or has it gone all horrible and moldy?"

"It's probably horrible," Lomadia said. "But we could check."

"Mm, let's," said Nano. She leaned her head on Lomadia's arm. "I missed you, sweetheart. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Lomadia said. "I'm really, really glad you're back. I've got to tell you everything that's happened while you were gone."

"At some point. Not right now." She sighed. "Lom?"

"Mm-hm?"

"Sex?"

Lomadia grinned.

"Let's," she said.


	35. Chapter 34

In the end, Strife did manage a few hours of sleep, although they were achey and cold and mostly gotten out of spite. He had dreams about red lasers shooting from robot eyes, mask-faced children crushing him in giant fruit-presses, sealing up his blood and bones in neat rows of glass jars.

The L41 unit was still watching him when he woke up in the morning. He made a great show of yawning and stretching as he sat up, taking the opportunity to glance around the room. The electric freak, August Lindholm (a.k.a. Rythian), had fallen asleep in Strife's armchair and was snoring lightly under his respirator. The curtains fluttered in a stiff, cold breeze from outside.

"Morning, Jeeves," Strife said. "Hey, real quick, before we get started, could you call up the window guys and schedule 'em to come in ASAP? It's starting to get real drafty in here, bad for my joints."

The L41 unit said nothing. It was still just as uncanny as it'd been the moment it walked in the room—the titanium face transposed to flesh, the color-changing doll-eyes, the movements too precise. The whole thing was downright unnatural, and it made Strife's skin crawl. He glanced at Rythian, stirring in his chair, and cocked a thumb at him.

"So uh," he said, "do androids dream of electric freaks?"

It took a single, too-quick step forward. Strife nearly jumped out of his skin, pulling something in his back. For a moment, the L41's eyes flickered yellow.

Rythian, meanwhile, was waking up, bleary-eyed and clumsy. He stretched, groaning, and sat up.

"Good morning," the L41 said.

"Morning," Rythian mumbled. "Did you throw him out the window yet?"

"Not yet," said the L41. "I've been considering it."

"Hey now, hey," said Strife, raising his hands. "It's _way_ too early for violence, fellas, let's cool it."

"I've contacted Nano," the L41 said, ignoring him. "She would like to meet with Mr. Strife to discuss the terms of our arrangement."

"By _arrangement,_ does she mean _blackmail?"_ Strife asked.

"Yes," said the L41, watching him unblinkingly.

"Okay," said Strife. "Good. So long as we're all . . . on the same page. With that. Hey, can I get dressed? Like, in _actual_ clothes? That'd be great."

"Whatever," said Rythian. "As long as I don't have to watch."

"What, don't you wanna make sure I don't sneak a gun up my sleeve?" Strife asked.

"I'll watch," the L41 said.

"God's _sake,"_ Strife grumbled to himself.

Once he was dressed and moderately well-groomed, Rythian and the L41 escorted him back to his office. He started for his desk automatically, and made it three steps before he stopped again.

The kid— _the_ kid, the dead kid, Xephos's kid—was sitting on his desk, kicking his feet idly and watching Strife. The resemblance to Xephos was striking, even behind the cat mask. Strife had a brief and desperate impulse to run over and snatch it off his face.

"I wouldn't," said the telepath, somewhere to his left. "If I were you."

Strife managed to tear his eyes away from Nilesy and take stock of his office. The telepath, Zylus, was leaning up against the wall, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Dr. Sounds was nearby, looking grumpy and incorrigible as ever. The bird woman and the diabetic kid were notably missing.

"Morning, Lal," Dr. Sounds said. "If you and Rythian want to take off, I think the three of us can handle Mr. Strife."

"Are you sure?" Rythian asked, frowning. "It's just—"

"Oh, we're _very_ sure," Nilesy said, smiling.

Rythian fidgeted. Strife resisted the temptation to do the same.

"Right," said Rythian. "Okay."

"We've talked about it," Dr. Sounds said. "Go get some rest."

"If you require help, I'll be prepared to respond," the L41 announced.

"Good to know," she replied.

Arm in arm, Rythian and the L41 unit walked out, shutting the door behind them.

"So is the robot a butler, or is it like a sex thing, or—" Strife began, cocking a thumb at the departed duo.

All three of them just stared at him, saying nothing. He trailed off, cleared his throat, and straightened his tie.

"Tough crowd," he muttered to himself. "Fine, okay. Terms and conditions, whaddaya want?"

"Not having the polishe come after ush for any murdersh would be a good shtart," Zylus said.

"What, the murders _you_ committed?" Strife asked. _"Sans_ coercion? Because you _felt_ like it? _Those_ murders?"

He watched with pleasure as Dr. Sounds's expression got very uncomfortable.

"Not ush," said Zylus, "not me. Jusht him." He cocked his head at Nilesy.

"Yeah, no, I'm not weaseling your psycho out of his murder charges," Strife said. "It's his dirty dishwater, he can soak in it."

"They won't catch me anyway, Zylus darling," Nilesy said. "They never do."

"Be quiet," Zylus told him. Nilesy shrugged and went back to watching Strife too closely. Zylus went on: "At the very leasht, you'll keep ush from being arreshted by _local_ polishe until our bushinessh here ish done."

"And what, _praytell,_ is your _business_ here?"

"Killing the YogLabs Administrative Board," said Nilesy, dreamily.

Strife paused. He chewed the inside of his lip. He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay," he said, "now that I can get behind. But if I'm gonna be hiding you from the cops, I'm gonna need some uh, _services_ in return, hey?"

"Thish ishn't an _allianshe,"_ Zylus said. "Thish ish you giving ush reashonsh not to—"

"Jesus Christ, that lisp is driving me _nuts,"_ Strife interrupted. "Can we get this guy some speech therapy or something?"

"She shellsh shea shellsh by the sheashore," Zylus sneered. "Go _fuck_ yourshelf."

Strife laughed. "Yeah, okay. _Myshelf_ is gonna need to talk to somebody who respects the integrity of the letter _s._ Anybody? I'm not negotiating with the telepath."

Dr. Sounds opened her mouth, stepping forward, but didn't manage to get a word out before Zylus spoke up again.

"You deal with me," he said quietly, "or you deal with _him."_

He pointed at Nilesy, who was still watching Strife unblinkingly. Nilesy smiled and waggled his fingers, looking suddenly more like Parvis than Xephos. Strife set his jaw and shrugged, affecting nonchalance.

"Sure," he said. "Yeah, I'll deal with the kid, whatever."

_"The kid_ has got a name, Will," Nilesy said. The sound of his own name prickled the back of Strife's neck. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

"Whatever," he said. "So what is this, I do whatever you want or you kill me? Is that how we're doing this?"

"Oh, goodness, no," said Nilesy. "You do whatever _they_ want, or I kill you. Because _my_ demands are _extraordinarily_ simple. And all, coincidentally, end with you dying anyway."

"Yeah, sorry, calling that bluff," said Strife. "You kill me, every goon in this building—hell, everybody in this _city—_ is gonna be out for your blood. You'd have to be pretty friggin' crazy to do something like that, hey?"

Nilesy grinned, kicking his feet. "I think you _vastly_ overestimate my sanity, Will."

"That can be enough," said Dr. Sounds.

"See?" Strife said, pointing at Dr. Sounds with a desperate relief. "See, _she's_ not gonna let you kill me. Tough luck, kid, but—"

"Oh no, I'll let him kill you," Dr. Sounds said sweetly. "But only if you don't respond to torture."

Nilesy threw his head back and cackled. All the blood drained from Strife's face and curdled in his stomach.

"You guys really aren't good with uh—with politics, are you," he said faintly.

"I'm good with politicsh," Zylus said, examining his fingernails. "But I heard you didn't want to deal with me, sho I've handed it over to my asshociatesh who don't _lishp."_

"Y'know, on second thought, it's kinda cute," said Strife, who was sweating.

"Don't push it," said Zylus. He looked up at Dr. Sounds. "You can go. Both of you."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," Dr. Sounds said, bristling.

"If he deshidesh to do anything shtupid, you can dissholve him afterwardsh," said Zylus.

"Really can't get enough of the violence, huh," Strife said.

"Reshiproshity, what can you do," Zylus sneered at him.

Dr. Sounds watched Zylus for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"All right," she said. "If it's necessary."

Strife saw the little flick of the eyes Zylus gave towards Nilesy, and the minuscule nod Dr. Sounds returned. He noted it and said nothing.

"It'll help," Zylus said.

"With what?" Strife asked. Zylus glared at him and he smiled.

"I s'pose we'll leave you two to it, then," Dr. Sounds said. "Nilesy, shall we?"

Nilesy hopped down off the desk and looked between Zylus and Strife. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something, but in the end he just walked out. Dr. Sounds followed, shooting one last dirty look at Strife, leaving Zylus standing there like a rock after the flood.

"All right," said Strife, rounding his desk and settling into his chair. "Lay it on me. What're your _demandsh?"_

"Demand one ish that you shtop making fun of my fucking lishp," Zylus said.

"No-can-do, shweetheart," said Strife, grinning. "I gotta have _one_ concession. You people have me in a damn headlock, what's one little lishp, hey?"

"For whatever pleasure it bringsh you," said Zylus. "Fine."

"Great! Negotiations are going _awesome_ so far. Good job, shonny, you're a real diplomat."

"Firsht: if you're going to work with ush," Zylus said, "we need a plashe to shtay. You'll provide accommodationsh, and they _won't_ be shitty."

"Sorry, was that _sitty_ accommodations? I'm not familiar with sitty accommodations, please elaborate."

"Apartmentsh nearby," Zylus said, unfazed. "Onesh you own. Good quality, one or two bedroom. _Not_ near YogLabsh."

_"Shorry,_ shonny, but I don't have anything like that."

"Are you _really,_ sherioushly, trying to lie to _me?"_ Zylus asked.

"Fine, fine, whatever," Strife sighed, a little stung. "You want me to set you up now? 'Cause check-out time for whatever crummy hotel you're holed up in is probably comin' up pretty soon."

_"Shecond,"_ Zylus went on, "you make sure we shtay fed and clothed. You provide enough capital for food, clothesh, bedding, furniture, and any other esshentialsh. You pay for any medical exshpenshesh."

"Yeah yeah, sure, I'm everybody's sugar daddy now, I get the point," said Strife, waving a hand.

"Third," Zylus said, "you make sure nobody at YogLabsh figuresh out we're shtill alive."

"What do I look like, witness protection?" Strife asked.

"You look like a very rich man who would like to live at leasht a few more weeksh," said Zylus. "If you can't make it happen, find shomebody who can and pay them to do it."

Strife snorted. "Wellp, you sure seem to have a handle on how I work, I'll give you that. Anything else I'm doing, or are you done?"

"Fourth," said Zylus, showing teeth, "you shee to it we get all the information we want about YogLabsh, whenever we want it. You give ush all the equipment we ashk for, when we ashk for it."

"Jeesh, do I gotta do _everything_ for you people?"

"Delegate," Zylus snapped. "Fifth, you make sure Nileshy doeshn't leave thish building without me."

"Hey, what your pet psycho does when he's off-leash is none of my business," Strife said, bristling.

"It'sh your bushinessh now," said Zylus.

"Nope. Not doing it. You can ask me for all that other stuff, but I'm drawing the line."

Zylus's mouth turned up in a tight smile. "Shorry, you already got your one conshesshion, Mi _sh_ ter _Sh_ trife," he said, hitting the lisped _s_ 's particularly hard.

Strife stared at him. He sat back and put his feet up on the desk.

"Not bad," he said, begrudging. "Not bad, kid. But seriously, I'm not watching your attack dog for you."

"Fine," said Zylus. "Then I'm not shtopping him nexsht time he deshidesh to kill you. Maybe he'll take you out back and shoot you, that'd be poetic jushtishe."

Strife felt the blood drain from his face. His hands clenched. His spine ached.

"Right," he said tightly. "Telepath. You son of a bitch. It was seventeen goddamn years ago, the kid's _nuts."_

"Nobody thinksh Nileshy'sh shane," said Zylus. "But nobody thinksh you don't desherve whatever he deshidesh to do to you. Including you."

"You think I _wanted_ to get ripped up by that little freak?" Strife demanded.

"I think you had plenty of other optionsh, and you didn't take any of them."

"Like _what,_ genius?"

"You could have shot him the shecond he walked in the room," said Zylus.

"Nah, I don't do murder. I'm not that kinda guy," Strife opined. Now that the initial shock had worn off, it was actually easier to get on with Zylus. At the very least, the air was cleared.

"I know _exshactly_ what _kind of guy_ you are," Zylus said, his lip curling.

"Oh yeah?" said Strife, leaning back in his chair and grinning. He spread his hands. "I'd love to hear it."

"Cooperative under duressh," Zylus said darkly.

The smile fell off Strife's face. He stared at Zylus for a moment, then looked down at his desk and licked his lips. He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head in allowance.

"Well," he said. "Well, you're uh . . . you're not wrong. What's it to you?"

Zylus was quiet for long enough that Strife looked up at him. He had half-turned away and was standing with his fists and jaw clenched, the skin around his eyes tight and red.

"How do you get back out?" he said quietly, his voice hoarse and shaking.

Strife took a breath and sighed it out again.

"You want a drink?" he offered.

"Don't tempt me," Zylus sighed. "I have to be functional today."

"Not a problem," Strife said. "I got more drugs than I know what to do with. It's a prestige thing. I can keep you functional."

Zylus didn't rise to the bait. Strife rolled his eyes and took his feet down off his desk.

"You play it safe," he said quietly, gently. "You either wait for leverage or you wait for somebody else to fix the problem for you. I got uh . . . well, I guess you probably already knew this, since you can see inside my head, but I got pretty _rigorously_ strong-armed by Xephos a while back. Your buddy in the mask solved that one for me."

"And now we're going to sholve the Board for you, ish that it?" Zylus asked.

"I'm not gonna get in your way," said Strife, cracking a smile.

Again, Zylus took some time to respond.

"And what if nobody shavesh you?" he asked. "What if there'sh no shpashe for leverage?"

"Then you survive," Strife said, although the words sent a flash of pain through his chest. "You do whatever it takes to make it out alive."

"And what about your friendsh?" Zylus said sharply, bitterly. "Do _they_ make it out alive?"

Strife didn't answer. From the disgusted noise Zylus made, he figured he didn't have to.

After a moment, Zylus came and sat down in the chair across from Strife's. He put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward intently, his face drawn and grim.

"I need to know shomething," he said. "And I need honeshty."

"Pretty sure we already covered the fact that lying to you is an exercise in futility," Strife drawled.

"Oh yesh," Zylus said, some dark humor creeping into his voice.

"Okay, shoot. What do you want to know?"

"Can you keep ush shafe?" Zylus asked.

"From what?"

"The Division. YogLabsh."

Strife snorted. _"Hell_ no. I couldn't even keep _me_ safe from _you_ all."

Zylus stared at him for a moment longer, then dropped his eyes and got to his feet.

"Then we don't have anything elshe to talk about," he said. He turned away. "Thanksh for your time, Mishter Shtrife."

"Hey, Zylus," Strife said. Zylus turned his head fractionally. "Whoever's pulling your strings is in prime position to hang you from 'em. Don't do anything stupid, hey?"

"Shtupidity got me into thish messh," Zylus said. "I'm not counting on it to get me back out."

Strife nodded, and Zylus left. When he had gone, Strife poured himself a gin and tonic and sipped it, gazing out his cracked window at the cityscape beyond.

"Well," he mused. "Ain't _that_ interesting."

* * *

 

He was more ready for the second meeting with the Mutant Crew, as he'd taken to calling them. He'd called up the window people and had his bedroom window replaced—not with bulletproof glass, this time, but with something that would shatter into much larger, much heavier, much _sharper_ pieces. He slept a little easier with it in. He did not have his office's window glass replaced. The crack kept him humble, and also prevented him from getting too cozy about the presence of Xephos's monster child.

Once again, the meeting only consisted of Dr. Sounds, Zylus, and Nilesy. They came in mostly unannounced (the secretary downstairs had warned him they were on the way), looking grimmer and grimier than ever—except the kid, who had his father's sense of propriety, and cleaned up nicely besides. He was, however, still wearing the mask, and did, unfortunately, make a direct beeline for Strife's desk and sit on it again.

Nilesy picked up Strife's gold CEO nameplate and examined it cursorily. He tossed it once or twice like he was gauging the heft of it.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Strife said through clenched teeth. "And where's the rest of the Mutant Crew?"

"On other business," Dr. Sounds said primly. "Which isn't yours."

Strife rolled his eyes. "Fine, so whaddaya want?"

"Home addresses," Dr. Sounds said. "For the Board."

"Why, so you can murder 'em while they sleep?"

"Surveillance," Nano growled, but Strife saw the quick glance exchanged between Zylus and Nilesy.

"You sure about that?" Strife asked, leaning forward.

Nilesy tossed the gold nameplate up in the air. It spun three times. He caught it with a hearty _smack_ of metal against skin. It sounded very painful.

Strife sat back again.

"Yes, actually, and I know what you're implying, and it's been talked about," Dr. Sounds said.

"So, _just_ to be perfectly clear, Plan _B_ is to murder the Board in their beds," Strife said.

"At the moment," Dr. Sounds said stiffly.

"That's stupid. That should be Plan A."

"You are _not_ here to give advice," she snapped.

"Yeah? Then what _am_ I here for?"

Gritting her teeth, Dr. Sounds said, "To give us. The home addresses. Of the YogLabs Administrative Board."

"You couldn't've called or something? You had to bust in here like you owned the place?"

"Oh yes," said Nilesy. He tossed the nameplate again. Strife winced when it thudded onto the desk, chipping the wood.

"Would you _quit_ that?" he hissed.

"Why?" Nilesy asked.

Strife ground his teeth for a moment, composing himself. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Not at all," said Nilesy.

Thrown for a loop, Strife nonetheless managed to get himself a cigar without betraying too much. He could, however, see Zylus watching him very closely, which annoyed him.

Strife sat back in his chair and blew out a breath of smoke. It was a little easier to be calm now. It was a little easier to feel in control.

"So," he said. "I take it you folks have a plan. Care to share?"

"No," said Dr. Sounds.

"Mmkay, well, what it sounds to _me_ like you're doing," said Strife, getting up out of his chair, "is that you're stalling."

"I _said—"_ Dr. Sounds began, irritated, but Zylus held up a hand.

"Wait," he said. "Let him talk."

Dr. Sounds glared at him, but didn't interrupt. Strife came out from behind his desk and took up a slow and measured pacing.

"Listen, the longer you wait, the more likely it is the Board's gonna figure out what you're up to," Strife said. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but Dr. Sounds, you were saying something about one of them coming to visit you in prison?"

He was gratified to see her pale.

"I . . . sort of hoped he would figure we were all dead," she mumbled.

"Yeah, unfortunately, while the Board's as dumb as a box of rocks, they're not _that_ dumb," said Strife. "I don't know how they found out about you in the first place—I'm lookin' into patching up that particular leak—but however they did it, you people have been parading around this place openly enough that word's gonna get out. _So,_ if you wanna get _anything_ done before they decide you're too much of a threat to leave alive, you're gonna want to do it real quick, hey?"

"Why would they deshide that?" Zylus asked. "They haven't cared sho far."

"Uh, duh, because you're sitting in their backyard now, geniush," Strife said. "Like I said, not _that_ dumb. Which is _why_ I'm none too comfortable with your three buddies and the robot wandering around loose. If they get seen alive and well, my ass is grass."

"Not fond of traitors, are they?" Nilesy inquired, his eyes sparkling.

_"Traitor's_ a little harsh. They inherited me through a grandfather clause of blackmail. I stuck around 'cause I figured they'd be useful."

"And are they not anymore?"

"Might be. Might be I'm just tired of them calling the shots."

"Might be you've found a way to weasel out, and once you've done with them, you'll round on us like the snake you are," Nilesy said.

"Wait wait, am I a weasel, or a snake?" Strife asked, stopping his pacing and gesturing with his cigar. Its lit tip drew patterns in bluish smoke.

"Deary me, am I not allowed to mix metaphors?" Nilesy inquired, a smile curling his cupid's bow lips. "Awfully closed-minded of you."

"Mix away, I just wanna know where I stand."

"In a very precarious place, Will," Nilesy said warmly, and Strife broke out in goosebumps. He resisted the urge to shiver, and sucked on his cigar instead.

"How precarious we talking?" he asked. "Because I got an awful lot of people around who'd be willing to catch me."

"Is that a _threat,_ Will?"

"Depends, are you gonna kill me when you're done with the rest of the Board?"

"Are you asking me _personally,_ or was that a general inquiry?"

"I'd like to know, generally, if my reward for helping you people is a nice casket."

"And if it is?"

"Well, then I just might get a little _loose lipped_ at the next Board meeting, hey?"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Will," Nilesy said, grinning at him.

"Yeah? Just out of curiosity, what _would_ you do if you were me?"

"You can't guess? I thought I'd made it very clear what my endgame for you is."

"Sometimes people change their minds."

"Do those people include you?"

"It's been known to happen. You've gotta be pretty stupid to never change your mind about anything."

"That or particularly stubborn," said Nilesy. "Changed your mind about anything lately, Will?"

"A couple things," said Strife, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"That'sh fucking _dishgushting,"_ Zylus cut in. Strife jumped, sharply reminded that there were, in fact, other people in the room. His face and neck and chest all flushed burning hot. He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat.

"Uh—did uh—did somebody fart, or—or—" he stammered, his voice cracking.

"Don't," said Zylus. He shouldered past Strife and grabbed Nilesy's arm. "We're leaving."

"Oh, what?" said Nilesy, putting up only token resistance. "Just when I was getting a good banter going."

Zylus yanked on his arm and spoke quietly into his ear. The smile drained out of Nilesy's face and was replaced by a singular disgust.

"You've _got_ to be fucking kidding me," he said, his lip curling.

Zylus shook his head, then finished shuttling Nilesy out of the room. Nilesy put up no further resistance.

"What was _that_ about?" Dr. Sounds demanded.

"No idea!" Strife squeaked. "Sorry, I uh—I'm real busy, y'know, uh, so—gotta get back to work, don't really have time for you folks—"

"What did you think about him?" she pressed. "It had better not be what I think it was, because if it _is—"_

"Don't know what you're talking about!" Strife said. He took Dr. Sounds by the shoulders and turned her towards the door, started pushing her out. She rounded on him and shook a warning finger right under his nose.

"You don't _ever_ put your hands on me," she said. "Not _ever_ again. You understand me?"

Strife raised his hands in surrender. "Yep, yeah, gotcha, sorry."

"And keep them off of Nilesy, too," she added, her face sickly with revulsion.

"Was that—who said anything about that?" Strife said, eyes darting.

"Zylus is right," Dr. Sounds said, leaning back from him. "You're fucking _disgusting."_

Strife threw his hands up and turned away. He went to his desk and leaned on it, hanging his head. The cigar was still smoldering between his fingers, wasting itself slowly.

"Look," he said. "The kid's good-looking, and smart, and witty, and I . . . have a _type._ You can't blame me for _thinking."_

"You're _literally_ old enough to be his father!" Dr. Sounds cried.

"It's not like I was gonna _do_ anything!" Strife shot back. "Not my fault what runs through my head! Maybe that telepath oughtta just learn to keep outta other people's business, hey?"

"If you don't start calling us by our names," Dr. Sounds said, "I'm going to burn them into your fucking face."

"Jeez, fine, okay! What _is_ it with you people and getting violent?" Strife said, exasperated.

"It's almost like we've been locked up and exploited and tortured by people who refuse to acknowledge us as human beings," Dr. Sounds said flatly.

Strife let out a long breath through his nose, teeth clenched. Clearly this track was not going good places. He propped up his cigar over the ash tray so he wouldn't get cinders on his hands.

"I uh," he said, after a suitable pause. "L-look, I'm . . . sorry. For uh, for kidnapping you. And—all the other stuff."

"No you're not," said Dr. Sounds. "You're just scared."

"Yeah, well, maybe if you people would stop _threatening_ me, I'd have space for a little more genuine compassion, hey?"

"Make room," Dr. Sounds snapped. "If you wanted to be coddled, you shouldn't have fucked with _me."_

Strife opened his mouth. Strife closed his mouth. He inclined his head.

"That's uh . . . that's a fair point," he said. "Am uh . . . am I allowed to get back to my job now, or are you still talking?"

"You know, at this point, I'll be _very_ happy not to be in a room with you anymore," said Dr. Sounds. She turned on her heel, stopped, and shot over her shoulder, "And if you so much as _touch_ Nilesy—"

"Yeah yeah, I'll make up my own threats," said Strife. "You people sure are attached to the little psycho. How come?"

"He's very charming," she sneered, flippant.

"Sure," said Strife. "It almost makes up for the homicides. Maybe it runs in the family."

"Don't," said Dr. Sounds, and flounced out.

Smirking to himself, Strife added another point to his mental scoreboard.

* * *

 

Strife was roused rather late that night by a knock at his door.

He hadn't been sleeping, and was in fact still fully dressed, but it was well after business hours and most of his staff knew better than to disturb him in his room. Grumbling, he got up from his desk and went to the door, peering surreptitiously through the peephole.

Nilesy was standing outside, hands clasped behind his back, rolling up onto his toes and back idly. It was such a patently Xephosian habit that it made Strife's heart do somersaults. The kid was still wearing the mask.

Against his better judgement, Strife opened the door.

"What?" he barked, sharply, hoping for nothing more dire than a bothersome call from Dr. Sounds.

Nilesy took a single step forward into Strife's space and very casually propped his shoulder against the doorframe, such that the door could not be closed. Strife resisted the impulse to step back, holding his ground, although it left him uncomfortably close to Nilesy, so close he could practically feel the kid's body heat.

"Can you guess why I'm here, Will?" Nilesy inquired, leaning his head on the doorframe.

"Uh," said Strife. He gulped. Things were suddenly looking a lot more dangerous for him. "W-well, I got . . . I got some ideas. You might say."

"Which are?" Nilesy said pleasantly, smiling up at him.

"Y'know, uh, it's late, I should really be—"

Nilesy grabbed him by the shirtfront and kissed him.

On the instant, Strife hauled Nilesy back into his room, kicked the door shut, pinned the kid up against the wall and grabbed him by the hair. Nilesy made a beautiful little noise, bridging against him, breathless and greedy.

"You gonna kill me when we're done?" Strife asked, getting a hand under Nilesy's shirt to find his skin, his hip.

All Nilesy said was _Please,_ so desperate and so starving that Strife didn't bother asking any more stupid questions. He took Nilesy apart methodically, testing, experimenting, observing every hitch in his breath and the tone of every whimper. Touching skin was good. Hair pulling was good. Anything to do with the neck was very, _very_ good. He spent almost five minutes kissing and nipping him there, reveling in the power of it. Here was this freak who could turn him into salsa with a thought and Strife had him _begging._

He was honest to God going to fuck Elly's kid right here in his own damn bedroom, and the little psycho was eating it up.

"This what you came here for?" Strife growled into Nilesy's ear, undressing him roughly.

_"Yes,"_ Nilesy gasped, clutching onto Strife for dear life.

He managed to get the kid's shirt off and hauled him to bed, not quite able to carry him because his back and knees were acting up. He spent a few more minutes getting Nilesy good and desperate and then decided, in the face of his own flagging energy, that he might as well make tonight special.

It was hard to make Nilesy stay still, and he ended up having to hold his head down by the hair, clenched-fist, but it was well worth it for the payoff. He did a line of coke off each of Nilesy's carotid arteries, and the way the kid squirmed and gasped was just about as blisteringly hot as the rush of the drug. He licked the residue off and it tingled on his tongue, numbing.

After that it was hard to focus long enough to keep taking Nilesy apart, so he just sucked hickey after hickey into his neck and chest and shoulders. The motions of his hands were rough, forceful, his body so full of energy he couldn't be bothered with courtesy or gentleness. He wasn't going to sleep tonight and he was damn determined that Nilesy wouldn't either. At some point the mask came off. That was, he considered, not only a point on his personal scoreboard but also a shortcut to total submission.

The only thing more satisfying than making the kid scream into his muffling hand, over and over, eight or nine or ten rounds throughout the night, was imagining the look on Elly's face if he'd been alive to see it.


	36. Chapter 35

Nilesy woke up in the morning when the door burst open.

He sat bolt upright, heart pounding, clutching the sheets to his naked chest, and saw Zylus come storming into the room like a thunderhead. Strife leapt up from his desk and sputtered something. Zylus punched him in the gut, _hard,_ so hard it knocked all the breath out of Strife with an audible _oomph._ Zylus drove his knee up into Strife's face as he doubled over with the sharp _crack_ of breaking bone. Strife staggered back, blood pouring from his nose. Zylus caught him by the front of his shirt. He threw his fist into Strife's jaw with such force that it tore the fabric in his hand. He kicked Strife's knee sideways with an ugly _pop._ Strife crumpled, gasping in agony. He dragged himself a foot towards his desk. Zylus delivered a vicious kick to his head and sent him sprawling. Zylus strode to the desk, ripped open the top drawer, and pulled out a gun. He leveled it at Strife's head without a breath of hesitation.

Everything went very, very still. Strife stared up at him, on his hands and knees, panting and bleeding and shaking.

"Nileshy," Zylus said, "come here."

Nilesy sat in the bed, clutching the sheets at his sternum. His mind was fogged, his body trembling. He ached all over, worn out and used up, bruised and battered.

 _"Nileshy!"_ Zylus snapped, and the force of his voice was like a whip-crack, driving Nilesy to scramble out of bed and dart over to Zylus. Zylus shoved Nilesy behind him, and Nilesy stood there shivering and naked, terrified. The gun was still pointed at Strife's head. Zylus's hands were shaking, but not, Nilesy thought, with trepidation.

"Do you want to," Zylus asked quietly, "or should I?"

"W-wait," Strife gasped. There was a hideous clicking noise every time he opened his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face. "Wait, I—"

Zylus fired. The retort of the gun was deafening, leaving Nilesy's ears ringing and stuffed with cotton. A patch of floor exploded in splinters and Strife yelped, scurrying back to the wall, dragging his left leg useless behind him.

"Don't talk," Zylus said, and now his voice was shaking, too. "Don't fucking open your dishgushting mouth in front of me again."

Strife's mouth snapped closed with a clacking of teeth. Zylus kept the gun trained on him.

"Nileshy," he said again, "do you want me to shoot him?"

There rose a great clamor from Nilesy's mind, hateful and fanged, vicious as only a festered wrath could be. He could still feel the greedy hands against his hips, the gnawing teeth and dripping tongue making filthy ruin of his flesh. Watching Strife cower on the floor, helpless and terrified, he wanted nothing more than to watch him die in agony, blood and useless pleas spilling over his lips in equal measure. The sound of them would warm the cold echoes ringing in his ears, seventeen years gone and still prickling his brain with ice.

_Elly, listen, you want me to take that freak out back and shoot it, I'll do it._

Zylus had gone pale. His hand was shaking more than ever, his jaw clenched steel-trap tight. His breath was coming short and sharp through flared nostrils, his lips were pinched down to a thin white line.

"Yes," Liam said through Nilesy's lips, quiet and mousy and more terrible than the sea.

"Wait—" Strife squealed, holding up his hands, trying to press himself back through the wall.

Zylus sucked in a breath and stiffened his arm, grabbed his own wrist to steady his aim, his face twisted up in rage and hatred.

He did not fire.

He stood, trembling, hissing breaths through his bared teeth, the barrel of the gun sketching figure-eights in the air. He cursed vehemently and bent his elbow, pointing the gun at the ceiling.

"Get dresshed," he growled at Nilesy. Wordless, Nilesy went to collect his clothes, burning with shame and sick with fear, with guilt. He heard a clacking noise and risked a glance over his shoulder, just in time to see Zylus take the clip out of the gun and stick it in his own pocket.

"Uh," said Strife, glancing between Nilesy and Zylus.

"I will _not_ heshitate to kick every lasht one of your fucking teeth down your throat," Zylus snarled. Strife raised his hands in surrender, wide-eyed and pale and still bleeding profusely.

Nilesy finished getting his clothes on, though his hands shook too hard to do up the buttons of his shirt. He managed to collect the mask, which was lying face-down on the floor next to the bed. Zylus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him out of the room, his grip bruising-tight. Tears sprang to Nilesy's eyes, a lump rose in his throat, a rubbery hand made a fist around his stomach.

Zylus dragged him to the elevator, and then inside, and then slammed him against the wall so hard it made Nilesy yelp in pain.

"What the fuck ish wrong with you?" Zylus hissed. "What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

"Zylus—" he gasped, not sure if his sudden light-headedness was because of the elevator's descent or because he couldn't breathe. Zylus shook him.

"What could _posshibly_ have posshesshed you to fuck that bigoted pieshe of _shit?"_ he said. "How fucking _shtupid_ do you have to be? Jeshush _Chrisht,_ Nileshy, he fucked your _father_ thirty yearsh ago! What kind of fucking _idiot_ shtunt are you trying to pull? What fucked-up _lunashy_ would lead you to let that fucking _pedophile_ shtick hish dick in you?"

"I'm—I'm sorry," Nilesy sputtered, barely able to get a word in edgewise. He'd never seen Zylus so angry, so rawly furious. Again, Zylus shook him, this time so violently it cracked his head against the elevator. Nilesy whimpered.

"What made you do it, Nileshy?" he demanded, his voice cracking."Deshperation? Or do you jusht hate yourshelf _that fucking much,_ that you'd let him ushe you like a fucking blow-up doll? God fucking _dammit,_ Nileshy, you shouldn't have to _do_ thish!"

Nilesy tried to take Zylus's wrists, tried to grapple onto _something_ so that he would feel less like he was suffocating, or at least so he wouldn't crack his head open on the floor when he did. Zylus snatched his own hands back and stepped away, his eyes red and his shoulders tight.

"I am _shorry,"_ he uttered. "I'm fucking _shorry_ I drove you to thish, I'm shorry I fucked up _sho fucking badly_ that you had to turn to a bigoted pig _twishe_ your fucking age inshtead of _anyone_ elshe."

"You d-didn't—" Nilesy stammered, his eyes full of tears.

Zylus grabbed him and yanked him into a hug, squeezing him tight enough to cut off his air, and his voice was thick with tears when next he spoke.

"I've tried sho hard to be enough for you," he said, helpless and frustrated. "I've tried _sho hard_ to make it sho you wouldn't have to _do_ thingsh like thish."

"I'm sorry," Nilesy whispered, hating himself so much he could scarcely speak, so full of shame there was almost no space for anything else.

"Jusht pleashe, God, not again," Zylus said. "Pleashe _never_ do thish to yourshelf again. I would do anything for you. I will do _anything_ you ashk me to, jusht _pleashe,_ don't make me watch him ruin you again."

Nilesy could only crumble against him, weeping, weak and shameful and unbearably disgusting.

* * *

 

It rained on them throughout the short walk to the new apartments, cold and dreary. Zylus had done up the buttons of Nilesy's shirt for him before they'd gotten out of the elevator, since Nilesy's hands were still shaking too hard to do it himself. He'd also kept his arm linked with Nilesy's and put the mask in an inner pocket of his coat. They were both of them dripping by the time they got back.

They'd almost made it to their shared two-bedroom apartment when Nano came around the corner, took one look at them, and planted herself in the middle of the corridor like she expected a siege.

"Where've _you_ two come from, then?" she asked, eyeing them. Nilesy kept his head down, a fresh wave of sickness sweeping over him.

"It'sh not important," Zylus said. He made as though to brush past Nano, dragging Nilesy along with him. She shifted her weight and leaned into his way, forcing him to stop.

"Actually," she said, "I personally think it _is."_

Zylus hesitated, then said, "Sholutionsh Tower."

"Yeah? What were you two doing there, all by yourselves?"

"I only went to get Nileshy," Zylus said.

Nilesy kept his eyes down and tried to hold very still, like maybe she wouldn't notice he was there if he was quiet enough. Nonetheless, he felt Nano's gaze land on him.

"And what was _Nilesy_ doing there?"

"He—"

"No," Nano interrupted, her voice quiet and suspicious. "No, I want _him_ to tell me, please."

He couldn't make himself speak, couldn't even think of a single word to say. He started shaking, struggling to breathe.

"Nileshy had a very, _very_ difficult night, Nano," Zylus murmured. "He'sh nonverbal right now. He can't tell you anything."

There was a long, taut silence. Zylus's hand was clenched on Nilesy's arm. He could feel the bruises rising, warm and pulsing.

"Well then," Nano said at last. "Nilesy, why don't you come have tea with Lal and Rythian and me? I'm sure Zylus could use some time alone."

Nilesy went rigid. Suddenly, and against all his better judgement, he wanted nothing more than to go with her, right away, cling to her for dear life and let her carry him off like driftwood on a current. The impulse was so strong and so counter to his expectations that it started heaving his voice up from whatever pit it had disappeared into, dragging the weight of it inch by inch towards his lips.

"Maybe later," Zylus said gently. He relinquished his grip on Nilesy's arm to pat him on the shoulder. "Nileshy, why don't you go get cleaned up? Afterwardsh you can shee if you're feeling up for tea."

On the instant, the impulse faded, snuffed out like a candle beneath a glass. His voice sank back into the depths, vanishing. Jerkily, Nilesy nodded, and with only a light push from Zylus he set off back to the flat. It took him six tries to get the key in the lock. He could still hear Zylus and Nano talking, back down the corridor. Nano sounded unhappy, suspicious.

He showered on autopilot, trying to distance himself from his own body as much as possible. The bruises and hickeys and bright red fingernail-scratches all ached and burned under the hot water, a fitting punishment for his crime, if too lenient. He wasn't sure how long he stayed in the shower, only that the whole bathroom was fogged and misty by the time he got out. It took him an age to get dressed, just because it was so hard to make himself move.

Despite everything, everything he was and everything he'd done, the offer of just having tea with Nano and Rythian and Lalna kept swimming to the forefront of his mind. The thought of it made him ache, made his eyes prickle with tears.

What he wouldn't _give_ for a little scrap of normality, a few minutes without thinking, without hurting, without. . . .

Without Zylus, mainly.

It was not impossible that Zylus hadn't come back to the flat, that he was still out and about somewhere. Or, more likely, that he'd come back to his room and started drinking. If Nilesy was very, very quiet, and didn't think too loud, it was just possible that he could slip out unnoticed. It couldn't _hurt,_ surely, for him to just nip out for an hour. At least he wouldn't be alone.

His mind made up, Nilesy put his shoes on and crept to his door. He listened for a long moment, trying to discern if Zylus was out in the common room next to the kitchen. He heard nothing, and so slipped out.

He made it about halfway through the kitchen.

"Going shomewhere?" Zylus inquired.

Nilesy jumped, startled more than seemed reasonable. Zylus was sitting on the couch in the common room with his feet up on the coffee table, watching him.

"I—I thought I'd . . . I was just going to go . . . have tea," Nilesy said. His voice was shaking."With—with Nano and Rythian and Lal."

Zylus looked him up and down.

"Looking like _that?"_ he asked. "They're going to ashk queshtionsh, Nileshy. Are you prepared to anshwer them?"

Nilesy's heart skipped a beat, jabbing a sliver of panic into his brainstem.

"I—well—" he stammered. "I could—I could just . . . lie? To them. About. . . ."

Zylus raised an eyebrow. "And you think that would _work?_ You're a terrible liar, Nileshy. You'd only make it worshe."

"I just . . . wanted to have tea with my sibling," he said, mousy, while tears welled in his eyes and a hollow ache spread through his chest.

"And if you hadn't pulled that idiotic shtunt lasht night, you'd be able to," Zylus returned.

"But—I-I could just—pop over? For a bit? To get—to get out of your hair, for a little while, so . . . so you don't have to be around—" He gestured to his head, well aware of the violence of the storm therein.

"If it'll make you feel better, fine. And then, when they figure out what you did and are rightfully dishgushted with you, you can come back here worshe than ever and washte another four hoursh of my time."

"I only wanted to give you a break, from me, from—from this, from—"

"Nobody'sh shaying you _can't_ go," Zylus interrupted. "You can do whatever you want. I'm jusht thinking about conshequenshesh." He added, in a much harder tone, "Becaushe _you_ clearly never do."

Nilesy stood still while the tears welled heavy in his eyes and the ache of longing fought against the tide of shame. At last, he dropped his eyes and bowed his head.

"I'll . . . put the kettle on," he mumbled, turning away.

"Thank you," Zylus said gently. "I think that'sh the wishesht deshision."

The next minutes passed quietly, while the kettle rumbled and then whistled and Nilesy put two cups of tea on to steep. He couldn't make himself stop crying, no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, the lull was broken by Zylus.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked.

Nilesy half-turned, baffled.

"What?" he said.

"A movie," said Zylus. "Your choishe. I can find jusht about anything. We could order out for dinner later."

"Um," said Nilesy, blinking. "That sounds . . . that . . . that actually sounds . . . good," he said.

Zylus shrugged. "I don't want you to be _misherable,"_ he said. "I'm jusht trying to look out for you. Any ideash on what you want to watch?"

"I um . . . not off the top of my head?" Nilesy guessed.

"No worriesh," said Zylus. He got to his feet and stretched. "I'll go get my computer and we can browshe."

"O-okay," said Nilesy.

Zylus went off to his room and returned a few moments later with his new laptop, which he'd bought the day before with one of the cards Strife's people had given them. He set it on the coffee table and started searching around, calling out the names of movies occasionally as suggestions. Nilesy fixed the tea and brought both cups over, handing one to Zylus.

"Thanksh," said Zylus. "How about thish one? It'sh like an ocean documentary."

"I think," Nilesy began, and hesitated, looking to Zylus. Zylus made a _continue_ gesture, so Nilesy went on. "I think I want to watch one of those really stupid movies about . . . mutant sharks."

"Gotcha," said Zylus, smiling. He'd found a whole list of them in under thirty seconds. "Where do you want to shtart? _Mega Shark vershush Giant Octopush? Sharknado?"_

"Any of them's fine," said Nilesy.

"We'll go in chronological order, how'sh that," said Zylus, clicking the first movie in the series. "Then we can watch the production quality devolve along with our shanity."

Nilesy couldn't really enjoy the first movie, too wound up and ashamed of himself to pay any attention, but the second one was better, and by the third one he was pointing out inaccuracies to Zylus. They got a pizza between the third and fourth, with ham and pineapple, not because Nilesy had specifically requested it but because he'd said _anything's fine_ and Zylus had gotten his favorite for him regardless.

"That's not how fucking _octopi_ work!" Nilesy cried, shaking a fist at the screen. "God's sake, you'd think these people had never seen a fucking octopus!"

"I can't casht blame," Zylus said. "I've never sheen an octopush in real life."

"What, you've never been to an aquarium?"

"Not one with an octopush."

"Stop the movie and find the nearest aquarium with an octopus."

"Nileshy—"

"No, come now, I'm derelict in my duties if I let you go on never having seen an octopus. What time is it, has everything closed?"

"It'sh eight, and probably," said Zylus. He did, however, pause the movie and start googling. "Looksh like the only one nearby ish the Brishtol Aquarium, which closhed at four."

Nilesy got up on the instant. "Come on, we're going."

"To a closhed aquarium?"

"Best time to go is after-hours, that's when they turn the lights off and all the good stuff comes out," said Nilesy.

"We're going to break into an aquarium."

"I'm _practically_ a fish, come on, it'll be _fun."_

Zylus watched him for a moment, and a cold trickle of doubt wormed its way into Nilesy's stomach. He braced himself for the refusal, for the reprimand, for the abuse.

"Let me get my coat," said Zylus.

* * *

 

"Jeshush fucking _Chrisht_ that'sh creepy," Zylus said.

"It's only an octopus," said Nilesy, keeping his voice low. There were no staff in this particular room at the moment, but it was possible they could be nearby.

"It'sh _thinking,"_ said Zylus, horrified.

"Yeah, they're incredibly intelligent, that's why you've got to give them toys, otherwise they start breaking out and eating everything," said Nilesy.

"I don't think you undershtand how fucking _creepy_ thish ish for me," Zylus said. He was staring at the little curled octopus, which was currently pretending to be coral (with limited success).

"Probably not," said Nilesy. "What's it thinking about?"

 _"I_ don't know, I don't shpeak octopush," Zylus said.

"Have they got dolphins here? D'you think you can see in _their_ heads? I bet they're easier to read, on account of being mammals. Actually, I bet there's all sorts of jobs for bimorphs in the zoo industry, come to think of it. As translators, mostly. D'you think anybody's done that?"

"Can we go shomewhere where the alien tentacle thing ishn't _thinking_ at me?" Zylus requested. "I'm shtarting to shee colorsh that don't exshisht."

"Oh all _right,"_ said Nilesy. He took Zylus's arm and the two of them crept off through the darkened aquarium. Most of the lights were out, leaving the whole place dim and blue. Patterns danced on the black floors, cast by the rippling surfaces of the tanks. There was a low, surrounding hum, and it was warm, and smelled of fish food.

They snuck around to the room with the shark tank, and Zylus found a bench to settle on. Nilesy went right up to the tank, stopping just short of pressing his face to it. The sharks were out and about, apparently clued in to the fact that it was night. Their slit pupils were wide in the darkness, their movements quicker and sharper than during the lethargic daytime. Sleek fins cut smooth vortices through the water as they went, occasionally cresting the surface like the sharks were hoping for a few more scraps of food.

"Ever touched a shark?" Nilesy inquired, watching the animals' intricate circling.

"We are _not_ breaking any further into thish aquarium and I am _not_ putting my hand anywhere near a shark," Zylus said. "What do they feel like?"

"Sandpaper, mostly," said Nilesy.

"I shouldn't be shurprished you know that," said Zylus. "Ish that from exshperienshe, or reading?"

"Reading," Nilesy said absently. One of the sharks, a beautiful female thresher, nearly five meters from her nose to the tip of her long, long tail, swam very close by him, nearly bumping the glass. He held up a hand and pressed his palm to the tank, feeling the tiny currents she cut into the water. "None of them ever got close when I was out there."

For a long while, there was only the hum of filters and pumps and temperature regulation instruments, the faint glooping of water as it sloshed about in the tanks.

"Nileshy," Zylus sighed, "would you like to touch a shark?"

"Very much so," said Nilesy.

Zylus groaned as he stood up. "There'sh nobody nearby. If we're quick, we should be able to shneak up and back down without getting caught."

Nilesy looked back at him, lit blue by the oceanic light.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Zylus nodded, then set off towards the nearest staff access door. It took a little time to get it open, since it was locked, but eventually Nilesy just stole a little water from the nearest tank and turned the knob from the inside. They went up the stairs and along the catwalks to the shark tank with Nilesy in the lead.

He knelt down next to the tank, watching the grey shapes swim and distort beneath the surface. Carefully, he put his hand in the water. It was warm, saline, very clean. He waited there for almost five minutes, the catwalk digging into his knees, Zylus standing quietly behind him.

A shortfin mako came close, its fin cresting the surface. Nilesy wiggled his fingers. The shark twitched, ever so slightly, then sank back towards the bottom of the tank.

It came around again three minutes later. Nilesy wiggled his fingers again. This time the mako circled at the top of the tank. It passed less than a foot under Nilesy's hand.

He very quickly dunked his arm in the water and let his fingers brush the shark's back. The shark arrowed away, disturbed, nearly bludgeoning his hand into oblivion with a scything flick of its tail. Nilesy only just managed to pull his arm back in time.

"Well?" Zylus inquired.

Nilesy looked at his wet, clammy hand, and wiggled his tingling fingers.

"Feels a lot like sandpaper," he said.

"Worth it?"

"Absolutely." He turned to look up at Zylus, dabbing his hand dry against his trousers. The sleeve of his shirt was sopping wet. "Shall we go home?"

"Pleashe," said Zylus. "We can shtop for hot chocolate on the way, if you want."

Nilesy stood up and pushed his dry hand back through his hair. He glanced at the shark tank one last time.

"I'd like that a lot," he said.

"Good. We should go, before shomeone findsh ush."

"Yeah," said Nilesy. "Um. Zylus? Thank you. For . . . this. It's—it's been a long time since I've. . . ."

"Enjoyed anything?" Zylus supplied.

"Yeah," said Nilesy, a flush rising to his cheeks. He squeezed a little of the water out of his sleeve, realized what he was doing, and coaxed the rest out with a judicious use of Power.

"I know," said Zylus. "I'm glad you . . . got to have thish."

Nilesy offered his hand. Zylus took it.

"You're paying for the hot chocolate," Nilesy said.

"Technically Shtrife'sh paying for the hot chocolate," said Zylus.

Nilesy grinned. "Even better," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the Bristol Aquarium is a real place (and they really do close at 4), they don't have big sharks. It's for conservation reasons, which I greatly respect.
> 
> However, all the sea life mentioned _is_ found in the waters around Great Britain, because I wanted to stay in-keeping The Spirit Of The Thing.


	37. Chapter 36

Rythian was awoken Monday morning by the screeching of the fire alarm.

He tumbled out of bed, muzzy-headed and blurry-eyed. He managed to get his mask on, then his shoes.

"'s going on?" he asked Lalna, since they seemed more coherent.

"I don't know," they admitted. "We should evacuate the building."

Rythian snagged his coat on the way out, shrugging it on. The corridors were filling with people, filing cattle-like towards the stairs. Nobody looked particularly concerned, although Rythian could smell smoke. He kept close to Lalna, being especially careful not to touch anyone. The stairs were crowded, and he was half-tempted to just stand on Lalna's feet and let their bulk guard him from the encroaching populace.

There was a _boom_ like a diesel tanker exploding and the whole building shuddered. Someone screamed, and some people started running. Rythian wedged himself into a corner as quickly as he could, and Lalna moved to stand in front of him, one hand on each wall, pressed up against him so that no one else could be.

"What the hell was that?" Rythian asked, breathless.

"I don't know," Lalna said again. Their eyes had gone pale orange. "It's probably not good."

The smell of smoke was stronger now, the air starting to cloud. There was another concussive _boom._

"We have to get out of here," Rythian said.

"I'll get us there," Lalna said.

The flood of people was turbulent, frantic. Lalna put an arm around Rythian's shoulders and pulled him in close, such that nothing of his was protruding beyond anything of Lalna's. Rythian tucked his elbows in as close as he could.

 _"Excuse me,"_ Lalna said, their voice booming out unnaturally loud. _"Please proceed to the exit in an orderly fashion. Panicking will only worsen the situation."_

For a moment, the turbulent eddies of humanity stilled, all eyes turning to Lalna. The air was now noticeably smoky, making Rythian's eyes water. The acrid taste of it hadn't gotten through his mask yet, but other people were starting to cough.

Lalna started ushering people towards the exit, keeping Rythian close and out of the flow. Although the evacuation wasn't precisely _orderly,_ it was at least a little less panicked than before Lalna had spoken.

They emerged into a bright, chilly morning along with the rest of the residents. There was a plume of smoke rising up into the sky from the building, flames gushing from at least six different windows. Rythian scanned the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face.

"Do you see Nano?" he asked.

"No, but I see Lomadia," Lalna said, pointing. "I believe Nano is with her, since she spent the night in her room."

Rythian followed Lalna's finger and saw Lomadia's wings cresting up above the crowd, tawny and distinctive. Lalna helped navigate him through the crowd, keeping close. Rythian kept looking back over his shoulder at the building, which was really roaring now. Just as the two of them reached Lomadia, there was another _boom_ and a fireball exploded from the back side of the building. Several people screamed, and many ducked. The crowd made a concerted movement backwards, like a tide receding.

"Oh, thank God, there you are," Nano said, as Lalna and Rythian arrived. "Have either of you seen Nilesy and Zylus?"

"No," said Rythian. Lomadia and Panda were both there, looking on-edge. "You haven't?"

"I'm going back in," Panda announced suddenly. Lomadia caught him before he could go anywhere.

"Don't!" she said. "You can't, you'll die!"

"That is very likely," Lalna said mousily. Their eyes had gone white. They were looking intently at the building, as though they could discern anything about Nilesy and Zylus's fate. There were still a few people trickling from the stair exits, coughing and stumbling. The smoke was wreathing the building now, pouring from all the upper windows. Rythian could feel the heat of the flames from where they stood.

"Lalna?" he said softly. "Do you have anything that can help?"

Their eyes went dark for just an instant, and then they shook their head.

"This body was not built to withstand temperatures above two hundred degrees Celsius," they said. "If I were trapped inside, I would die. I also no longer have my sensors, and even if I did, the heat of the fire would obliterate any human heat signatures."

"Shit," said Rythian, taking their hand, his eyes fixed on the flaming building. "Maybe—maybe they went out the back? Maybe they—"

Before he could finish, Lomadia cried, _"There!"_ Rythian swiveled his head around and saw Zylus staggering from the building, coughing violently, dragging a nearly insensate Nilesy behind him. Lomadia rushed forward, but Panda beat her there by a mile, arriving in a blur of speed to help carry Nilesy.

The heat was growing very intense. In the distance, Rythian could hear sirens. Some samaritans were doing their best to disperse the crowd, or at least get them to move further away from the building. Rythian hurried towards Nilesy and Zylus anyway, with Lalna close behind him. Nano came along, too, her eyes darting suspiciously.

"He's not hurt?" Lomadia was saying, fussing over Nilesy even as Zylus and Panda carted him away from the building. "He's okay?"

 _"Okay_ ishn't the word I would chooshe," Zylus wheezed. He was immensely pale, his eyes bloodshot. A thin line of red was creeping out of his nose, and the eye closest to Nilesy was nearly scrunched shut.

Nilesy was staring, unblinking, at nothing. The clothes he was wearing were too big for him, likely Zylus's. There were fresh hickeys on his neck amongst the old ones. His breathing was shallow, uneven. He was shivering visibly. Rythian gripped Lalna's hand a little tighter and glanced back over his shoulder.

Just in time to see the fireball detach itself from the conflagration and arc down, ballistic, towards them.

 _"Get down!"_ he cried, yanking on Lalna with all the force in his body. Lalna ducked, Nano dropped to the ground, Lomadia threw up her hands and her wings as the fireball burst on the ground in front of them like a molotov cocktail. Flame and heat washed over them, and he heard Lomadia cry out sharply. Rythian scrambled to his feet, searching for the source of the projectile, while the crowd exploded into full-blown panic and scattered, screaming. Zylus and Panda were desperately trying to get Nilesy back on his feet after all three of them had dropped to their knees at the approach of the fireball.

Another shape rose up from the flames, this one trailing smoke like a dragon, long and sleek as a seal. It, too, arced up, and then descended, slowly, coming to rest twenty feet up and thirty feet away.

It was a man, dressed in a white-and-orange jumpsuit, like a racecar driver's, with _YLPID_ emblazoned on the chest in flashy letters. He had a handlebar mustache and a pointy little goatee. His eyes were like holes cut into a blast furnace, yellow-white and glowing.

"Hello, boys and girls!" he chirped, grinning like a maniac. A ball of flame burst to life in each of his hands. "You've been _very_ naughty."

 _"Sjin,"_ Nano growled, her fists clenching. She lifted a couple of inches off the ground, sizzling.

"Ooh, _you've_ been _especially_ naughty!" said Sjin, his furnace-bright eyes turning to her.

"I'm going to tear that fucking smile right off your face!" she snarled, rising higher.

Sjin only grinned wider. Nano went for him, and his whole body burst into flame, leaving his flesh a black silhouette in the center. There was a concussive _whoomph_ and Nano backpedaled, throwing her hands up to protect her face. The wave of heat rolled over Rythian like the breath from an opened oven.

"Okay," said Sjin, his voice now layered with a bonfire howl, his skin cracked with red like a burning tree-trunk. "Come get me."

The two hovered, facing each other, neither moving, neither breaking eye-contact. Panda was holding a knife by his leg, its point sketching figure-eights in the smoky air. Lomadia had crouched, prepared to jump. Zylus and Nilesy were leaning together, as though neither could stand without the other.

"Lalna," Rythian whispered, "how high can you throw me?"

"Well?" Sjin taunted, tossing one of his fireballs up in the air and catching it as though it was a baseball. "Come on, then! I've still got that _smile_ on my face!"

"A maximum of thirty feet," Lalna answered, "in a parabolic trajectory. Why?"

"There were innocent people in that building, Sjin!" Nano shouted back.

"Yeah, well," Sjin said, shrugging. "There's not anymore, are there."

 _"Because I only need to touch him once,"_ Rythian whispered, his eyes fixed on Sjin.

"You will be burned," Lalna said.

"He will be dead," Rythian said.

"Who sent you here?" Nano demanded of Sjin. "What son of a _bitch_ did this?"

"You know where I get my orders from," Sjin said. "Hey, catch!"

And with only that much warning, he hurled one of the fireballs at Nano. She ducked it, and it exploded on the ground twenty feet away, putting fire to the heels of the last fleeing citizens. Panda threw the knife in his hand at Sjin and sped off. The knife thudded into Sjin's shoulder and he yelped like a terrier.

 **"Now that's not very nice,"** he growled. The bonfire-howl eclipsed his human voice and left it a hollow and inorganic thing. He threw the second fireball at Panda and missed by a mile. Nano went for him again while his back was half-turned. She threw her whole weight into a kick at the knife lodged in Sjin's shoulder. He screamed, and the flames around him bloomed in a massive deflagration, and then _Nano_ screamed and Lomadia leapt snarling into the air.

 **"You're being nasty!"** Sjin roared. He ripped the knife out of his shoulder and flung it to the ground. The blade was red-hot, the hilt melting and twisted.

Nano fled, smoking and smoldering and burned. Sjin sped after her like a meteor. Lomadia followed, looping up around the flaming building. Panda zipped around and skidded to a halt at Rythian's side, panting.

"What do we do?" he demanded, a knife jittering in each clenched fist. Sjin was chasing after Nano, Lomadia dipping in towards him but turning away before she got close.

"I don't know," Rythian said. Sjin flipped over in the air and tossed a fireball back towards Lomadia. It singed her wing as it went by and then exploded against another building. "But we have to do it _right now."_

"Lal, _tell_ me you've thought of something," Panda said. Sjin was flying circles around Lomadia now, setting little fires on her wings with touches of his hands. Nano drop-kicked him out of the sky.

Lalna's whirr spun up as they thought, the heat of their body rose.

"It is necessary to neutralize both his flight and his pyrokinesis," they said. "Lomadia and Nano will not be able to injure him without being severely burned. Nilesy's Powers are optimal for implementing this solution."

"Not happening!" Panda cried. Sjin had hurled another pair of fireballs. Two more buildings caught fire—but not Nano or Lomadia, not yet.

"If he can be brought within range, Rythian can—"

 _"On it!"_ Panda cried. He zipped off before Lalna could finish. Another knife went spinning up into the air. It stuck hard into Sjin's calf. Two fireballs hurtled down and exploded into the space where Panda had just been. Sjin chased after him. He was fast, rabid, wild. He kept throwing fireballs as Panda led him back towards Rythian and the others.

"Nileshy," Zylus said suddenly, "We need Vee. Right now. _Right now._ People are going to die. I need you to get him for me."

Rythian spared a glance for the two of them. Nilesy was kneeling on the ground. He was staring at the flames. Zylus had him by the shoulders and was speaking urgently to him.

**"Come back, you little fuck!"**

The hollow howl of Sjin's voice snapped Rythian's attention back. Panda sped by in a blur. Sjin barreled after him. Lalna let go of Rythian's hand and jogged five steps forward into the middle of the road.

 _"Lalna—!"_ Rythian cried.

They reached up a hand and very casually caught Sjin by the ankle.

There was a grisly _crac_ _k_ _._ Lalna was yanked backwards six inches. Sjin came to a screeching halt, screaming. Lalna looked to Rythian as the skin of their hand started to melt. Sjin gathered two fireballs in his hands and reeled back. Rythian caught his wits and sprinted forward as fast as he could, willing his internal dynamo to charge him beyond capacity—

And Sjin flung down both fireballs and they exploded with such force that Rythian was blown off his feet, sent skidding across the ground with searing pain all down his front, his ears ringing. Shaking his head, he pulled himself onto his hands and knees, blinking through the violet blobs that had engulfed his vision.

Lalna was still standing in the middle of the road, false skin dripping down their arm, their clothes and hair aflame, their body charred. Their eyes had turned bright red.

They had not let go of Sjin.

Rythian staggered to his feet and immediately fell over, disoriented. Heat washed over him in waves. He managed to lift his eyes long enough to see Sjin gather another fireball in his hand. Nano dropped from the sky and struck him hard. The impact slammed him into the asphalt, ripped his ankle out of Lalna's grasp. Sjin hurled the fireball after Nano. It missed and set another building on fire. Clutching his knee with one hand, Sjin heaved himself off the ground and followed.

Lalna looked up at their hand. It was little more than a red-hot endoskeleton. Behind them, another fireball exploded. Rythian staggered towards Lalna, but his whole front was an agony of blisters. He could barely move. Despite the pain, he made it to Lalna. He tried to grab hold of them and found he couldn't feel his fingers anymore. The mask on his face had half-melted from the heat and was barely wheezing along. Sparks were gathering in his lungs.

"Lal—" he gasped, falling against them, swatting at the fires on their clothes. "We—we have to—"

Lalna put their arm around him and half-carried him out of the street. Panda ran by again, back towards Sjin. He threw a third knife and yet another fireball exploded at his feet. He cried out in pain.

Rythian looked around for any sign of help. There was only fire, only Nano and Lomadia harrying Sjin, only Zylus and Nilesy still kneeling on the ground—

Zylus slapped Nilesy across the face so hard it nearly knocked him onto the asphalt.

 _"Vee,_ thish ish Nileshy'sh baggage!" he shouted. _"_ _Carry it!"_

Nilesy stared at him. The ground started to shake. With a roar, the nearest fire hydrant exploded in a geyser of water. The cast-iron cover rocketed twenty feet into the air. It crashed down inches from Rythian and Lalna. A shotgun-burst of shrapnel shattered outwards from it. Lalna dropped to their knees and cradled Rythian against their chest, shielding him with their body.

Another hydrant exploded, and then another, and another. The air reeked of smoke and iron, burned plastic, burned rubber, burned flesh.

Nilesy turned his head to look at Sjin, chasing Nano and Lomadia around like an ember gone mad.

"Oh," Nilesy purred, "now _this_ should be fun."

He stood up, shedding Zylus like a cloak. He clenched his fist and struck upwards.

A column of water burst up from between two buildings and enveloped Sjin. Steam exploded from the contact. Nano and Lomadia shot out of the cloud in opposite directions. Something black and smoking was ejected from the top and plummeted to the ground. It tumbled across the asphalt towards the group of them. Nilesy approached, slowly, water gathering behind him like rats after the Pied Piper.

Snarling and panting, Sjin heaved himself to his feet, still clutching at his right knee. He was sopping wet, steaming and smoking. The furnace light of his eyes was undimmed. His gaze fixed on Nilesy and his mouth pulled into a grin.

"Oh, hel-lo _you,"_ he breathed, straightening up. He kept his weight off his right leg. He was drying rapidly, jets of flame bursting over his hands and face.

"That's my line," Nilesy said.

A fireball flared to life in Sjin's hand and he flung it at Nilesy's head. Nilesy flicked a hand. A wave of water shot up in front of him. The fireball impacted against it. There was another explosion of steam. Rythian saw something ignite in the mist.

"I'm gonna fuckin' _do_ ya!" Sjin cried, manic. The spark of him rose upwards, pulling vortices through the fog. "I'm gonna _do_ ya and all your little friends!"

"Now _now,"_ Nilesy purred, grinning up at him. "That's _very_ rude, little bird. I don't much care for rudeness."

"Yeah?" Sjin said. A pair of fireballs bloomed in his hands, white-hot. "Well unfortunately I'm a pretty _rude du—"_

Nilesy made a swift, backhanded gesture, and a tendril of water burst up and slapped Sjin out of the sky. There was another explosion of steam. Sjin hit the pavement with a nasty crack. He struggled to get back on his feet, his flames sputtering.

 **"You little—"** he howled.

A tendril of water grabbed his right leg and yanked him back across the ground. Sjin screamed, cutting himself off. Steam poured from the contact. Nilesy made a swift and violent gesture and something turbulent happened in the cloud. There was another loud _crack,_ another yelp.

"Flew too low, little bird," Nilesy murmured. "Mustn't fly too low. That's how the cats catch you."

"Wait—" Sjin sputtered. "N-no, please—"

Nilesy yanked at nothing. Sjin screamed again. The tendril of water brought him flying out of the cloud and slammed him against the wall of the nearest building. Nilesy lifted him into the air and brought him down against the asphalt. Blood spattered everywhere, garishly red. Nilesy did it again, and again, his face blank and white. Rythian clung to Lalna, shaking where he stood. He could almost smell the oil and grease, the cracked concrete, the stench of the river, could almost feel the thick glass bruising his shoulder as he tried to get to—

"Liam, _enough!"_ Zylus shouted, staggering to his feet. "He'sh dead, it'sh over!"

Nilesy didn't so much at blink, still beating Sjin's bloodied, limp corpse against the ground. Rythian started forward and something black and white and blurry zipped into his path. It held up its hands, backed away in pace with him until he stopped.

"Don't," Panda said. "Seriously, honestly, _don't,_ just _don't."_

Zylus took a staggering step forward, one hand against his temple, blood pouring from his nose. Lomadia and Nano landed behind him, singed and sweaty, bathed in the light of the still-burning buildings.

 _"Liam!"_ Zylus cried.

Nilesy stopped. He opened his clenched fist. Sjin's body slid to the ground, landing with a boneless _thwap._ It was limp, horribly limp, like someone had taken a man-shaped balloon and filled it with water. Slowly, Nilesy turned to Zylus, expressionless, pale, silent. There was a breathless moment where everything seemed to still, everything seemed to quiet, even the flames and smoke and sirens.

Nilesy raised a hand, and a tidal wave of water swelled behind him, fifty feet high and opaque and roaring, and his face was cold and dead and his fingers did not so much as tremble. Zylus froze, gaping up at the wall of water poised to crash down and kill them all. Slowly, his spine straightened, and the fear fell from him like ash, and he turned his eyes to Nilesy.

"You can shtill fixsh thish," he murmured.

There was another breathless moment, while the tidal wave swirled with debris and the flames roared all around them and sparks leapt through Rythian's lungs.

The wave collapsed in on itself and then flooded back upwards into the burning buildings, filling them floor to ceiling. On every side, plumes of steam burst forth, filling the sky with white fog. Nilesy lowered his hand. Zylus staggered forward and caught him as he sagged.

"I—" Nilesy gasped, his face flickering with half-formed expressions. "I—"

He started to turn his head to look at Sjin's corpse. Zylus caught him by the hair and forced him to keep looking forward.

"Shtay with me," was all he said. "Nileshy, shtay with me."

In the fresh-risen fog, Rythian's mask breathed its last gasp and left his lungs full of sparks and smoke. Lalna helped him to his feet and started guiding him away, saying nothing. Their movements were jerky, mechanical.

"Lalna?" he managed, his voice a bare wheeze. The burns stung like mad in the warm mist, leaving his face and neck and arms needling with pain. "Are you . . . all right?"

"I am not undamaged," they said, their voice small. "But I am also not dead."

"Yeah," Rythian said, returning his focus to putting one foot in front of the other. "Same. Does it . . . hurt?"

"No," said Lalna. "I have turned my sensitivity down to almost zero."

"Lucky," Rythian grumbled. The only part of him that wasn't in pain was his fingers, which were still dreadfully numb.

"I believe we are in very deep trouble," Lalna said.

"Only . . . just now?" Rythian asked thinly. A spark shot through his lung and he folded, tasting blood. Lalna knelt with him while he struggled to catch his breath.

"We have killed a Division employee," Lalna said. Their eyes were lighting the fog up white. "We have effectively declared war on YogLabs."

Rythian attempted a snort, but it came out as a sizzling cough. He heaved himself to his feet, with considerable help from Lalna.

"About goddamn time," he said.


	38. Chapter 37

Panda turned away from Zylus and Nilesy and the corpse. He limped his way over to Lomadia and Nano, who were standing shell-shocked in the mist.

"Hey," he said to Lomadia. "You all right?"

She shook her head. "I'm burned all over and it really hurts," she said.

"Yeah," he sighed. His arms and legs and face were stinging, not blistered but definitively burned. "Same. Nano?"

"I'm made of pain," she said thinly. Now that he looked, there were blisters all over her hands and arms, angry red burns on her skin. Her clothes and hair were singed in multiple places.

"Where's Rythian and Lalna?" Lomadia asked. "They looked really bad, where've they gone?"

"Off somewhere," said Panda. "I guess we should find them, or something."

"I think we should all get back to Solutions Tower," Nano said. "If nothing else, it's safer than being out here in the open. Sweetheart, why don't you go collect Zylus and Nilesy, and I'll see if I can find Rythian and Lal. You can go straight on from here, we'll catch up."

"Okay," said Lomadia.

"I'll—go with you," Panda said to Nano, glancing back at Zylus and Nilesy. They were kneeling now, Nilesy clinging to Zylus and sobbing desperately.

"Sure," said Nano.

Lomadia moved off, and Nano started for a nearby alley. Panda followed. The mist was starting to glow with red and blue flashing lights, becoming noisy with incoming sirens.

"I think I saw them head this way," Nano mentioned to him. "Did you—see what happened?"

"Not really," he said. "One second Sjin was right behind me and the next second he just—wasn't. I didn't really . . . y'know, notice. How bad it was. There was other stuff going on."

"No, yeah, understandable," said Nano. The mist was thinning as they walked, but it was still fairly opaque. "At the very least, we know both of them could still move."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, both of them limping and slow.

"Where _d_ _id_ his orders come from?" Panda asked at last.

"Caught that, did you?" Nano said dryly. "Generally, they come from whoever's puppeting the Director at the moment."

"Oh," said Panda. "So that's . . . not super helpful."

"Not really," said Nano. "But the takeaway message here is that YogLabs knows where we are and they know what we're up to and they've decided we ought to be dead."

"Pity they couldn't've sent him when we were at Strife's stupid ugly tower," said Panda. "Could've stood to watch _that_ place burn to the ground."

"I suspect there're valuable things in there," Nano said. "As opposed to this building, which was just full of useless innocent people."

"How did you _ever_ manage to work for them?" Panda asked. "You just . . . don't seem their type."

She sighed. "Willful ignorance, mainly," she said. Raising her voice, she called, "Rythian? Lal? Are you out here?"

After a moment, a very faint reply came.

 _"Yes,"_ Lalna said, their voice thin and distant.

"Okay! We're coming to you, hang tight!" said Nano. "D'you want to run ahead?"

Panda pointed at his left ear. "I can barely hear out of this one, so no, I don't think I'll be trying to find anybody by sound today."

"Ugh, God," said Nano. She started off again, and Panda followed. "All right, what happened to your ear?"

"Somebody fired a gun right next to it," he said.

"For fuck's sake! Why? Who?"

"During the . . . the bank thing," he mumbled.

 _"Oh,"_ said Nano. "Lucky you didn't lose your whole head."

"I know," he said emphatically. They reached a corner and Nano called out again, and again Lalna answered. Nano took a left and continued onward, scanning the streets and alleyways.

"Is it growing back?" she asked. "I _think_ eardrums grow back. Generally."

"I mean, I can sort of hear out of it now," Panda said. "So yeah, I guess."

"Well," said Nano. "Small blessings."

It took another couple of minutes to find Lalna and Rythian, huddled up together in an alleyway. Rythian was badly burned, his fingertips charcoal-black, his mask a sagging wreck. Lalna, too, was charred, their skin melting off in places, most of their hair burned down to shriveled black squiggles. One of their hands was nothing but a metal skeleton, the flesh and wiring stripped off almost to the elbow. They looked up as Nano and Panda approached, and their eyes were pure white.

"Rythian is badly injured," they said. "He requires medical assistance and also a replacement for his mask. I removed him from the scene because I was concerned his Powers would begin arcing through the mist and injure someone. I have not contacted emergency services because I was concerned we would both be turned over to YogLabs."

"That's—that's good, Lal, you did good," Nano said gently, kneeling down in front of them. "We're going to go back to Strife's place. He's got a whole big medical lab under there, they should be able to help us."

Lalna nodded. "Okay," they said. "I am also damaged, but I am not in any pain. I will require supplies to repair myself."

"We can get you them," Nano said. "Or if we can't, we can make Strife do it for us."

"Are we, like, _super_ sure it wasn't Strife who called the Division on us?" Panda asked.

"No," said Nano, "but at this point we haven't got much of a choice."

"You are also injured," Lalna observed. "Both of you."

"Yes, Lal," Nano said patiently. "Can you get up? And can you carry Rythian?"

"I can—" Rythian mumbled, lifting his head a few inches. "I'm fine, I can—"

"Yes," said Lalna. Carefully, they adjusted their grip on Rythian, cradling him in one arm while their damaged hand hung at their side. They got to their feet, using their elbow to help pull themselves up the wall.

"Lalna," Rythian said, fumbling at their chest.

"Please don't do that," they said gently. "You may accidentally touch my chassis and short-circuit me. My insulation is compromised in several places."

Rythian dutifully curled his own hands against his chest and leaned his head on their shoulder. There was an intermittent, wet _popping_ noise coming from him. He twitched every time, wincing, and often coughed afterwards.

"Is he—okay?" Panda asked, after a few minutes of walking.

"Fine," Rythian wheezed.

"No you're not," said Nano.

"It's not that b—" he began, and was cut off by a loud _pop_ and a hacking cough that went on for nearly ten seconds.

"Yeah, no, I think it's probably that bad," said Panda. He noticed that his brow was furrowed with concern and quickly rubbed the wrinkles out. "Which, y'know. Who cares."

Rythian made a thin gurgling noise that Panda realized about halfway through was a laugh.

"You _like_ me," he said. "You _care_ about me."

"I do not!" Panda snapped, going hot in the face. "I just—wanted to know if you were going to die. So I could . . . could expedite the process!"

"Quit while you're ahead, love," Nano muttered to him.

"You shut up!"

"Sorry, I'm covered in second-degree burns, I've got to take my joy where I can find it."

It took half an hour to get back to Solutions Tower, mostly spent navigating through the misty streets and dodging emergency services. When they got there, a pair of guards quickly shuttled them inside, leading them to an elevator and sending them down to one of the sub-basements.

"I guess they were expecting us," Panda said, fingering his knives.

"It wasn't exactly inconspicuous," Nano said. "I'm sure the last thing Strife wants is YogLabs coming here after us. The less we're seen, the better."

The elevator came to a stop and the four of them stepped out. The security guard took one look at them and picked up the phone. Panda was halfway through throwing a knife when Nano caught him by the arm.

"Could you _chill_ for two seconds?" she said.

"You don't know who she's calling! We can't _trust_ these people!"

"Mr. Strife?" the security guard said. "The others are here. Should I put them in the same room?"

"If they were going to kill us, they would've done it already," Nano said. "Trust me. I got the whole evil monologue."

"I believe we are still useful to Mr. Strife," Lalna mentioned. "Judging by his behavior thus far, he is unlikely to cause us harm while this remains true."

"Say the people who _haven't_ had some fucking bollocksy piece of shit _surgically implanted_ in their abdomens," Panda grumbled.

"You _did_ walk into that one," Nano said.

"And what're we doing now, Nano? Because it looks an _awful_ lot like _walking in."_

Nano opened her mouth. She shut it again.

From around the corner came some sort of medical orderly, wearing bright pink scrubs. He looked at the assembled and bit his lip.

"Um," he said, "Dr. Sounds and . . . associates?"

"Just take us back," Nano said, already heading for him.

"Right," he said. "This way."

The orderly led them back to a different wing of the facility, into a passably large room where Zylus, Nilesy, and Lomadia were all waiting already. Lomadia was pacing, worrying at her singed wings. Zylus had a hand pressed to the side of his own head like he was trying to hold it shut. Nilesy was sitting very quiet and very still, expressionless, hands clasped in his lap. The bruises on his neck, both the yellowing old ones and the fresh purple ones, stood out stark against the pallor of his skin. The clothes he was wearing were too big for him. With a sinking sensation, Panda recognized them as Zylus's.

"Is Rythian okay?" Lomadia asked, the moment they came into the room.

"He is badly burned," Lalna reported. "His respirator has ceased functioning and this is causing him significant distress."

"It's not as bad . . . inside," Rythian said weakly. Lalna deposited him on the examination table and stepped back. They lifted up their own fleshless hand and examined it, mouth turned down.

"How bad is it, though?" Lomadia asked, coming to stand next to the table and fussing over Rythian. "His fingers look really bad. They look really _really_ bad."

"It doesn't hurt," Rythian mentioned. "Can't feel them at—"

Again, he was cut off by a loud _pop_ and a fit of coughing. Panda looked away, biting his lip.

"That's . . . really bad, isn't it," he muttered to Nano.

"In terms of recovery outcomes? Yes," she said. "In terms of him not being in excruciating pain, I s'pose it's a small blessing."

"Right, well," said Panda, shrugging. "Whatever."

His gaze wandered to Nilesy, sitting there smudged with soot but apparently uninjured. Next to him, Zylus had put his head down, nearly resting it on his own knees. There was blood all over his face, but otherwise he seemed all right.

"Zy?" Panda said. "Are you . . . okay?"

"Migraine'sh going to hit any minute now," he mumbled. "I'm getting the aura. Haven't had one shinshe Parvish, I'm due."

"That . . . sucks," said Panda. "Is Nilesy—"

"In shock," Zylus cut him off. "He'll be fine."

"Right," Panda said stiffly. "Sure. Good to know. I guess." In a fit of pique, he added, "How's that migraine mixing with the hangover?"

"Go to hell," Zylus muttered.

Without so much as a cursory knock, the door was flung open and Strife limped into the room, his left knee in a brace and a sturdy black cane in his hand. There were faint bruises on his face, pale speckles on his hands and arms like something had scraped off the tan. Zylus stared at him, agape. Strife grinned.

"Pretty nifty, huh," he said.

"How. . . ?" Zylus said vaguely.

"What, the telepath can't just yank it outta my brain?" Strife asked. "Somebody over in YogLabs has been making a magic serum that, quote-unquote, _regrows limbs._ I might've stolen some of it for uh, independent development. Turns out it works _great._ Hey, you folks wanna give it a try? You look like hell."

"Absolutely not," Panda snapped, drawing one of his knives.

"Hey, c'mon, _I'm_ willing to let bygones be bygones," Strife said, spreading his hands magnanimously. "And you know it's safe as houses, 'cause I used it on myself. I'll even help pretty little Zylus out, 'cause I'm so generous and forgiving."

"Zylus, what is he talking about?" Nano demanded.

"Oh, he didn't _tell_ you?" Strife asked, feigning surprise. "Last time I saw your buddy Zylus, he kicked the living _shit_ outta me. Which seriously isn't fair, 'cause the kid came to _me."_

 _"What,"_ Nano uttered, glaring at Zylus.

Nilesy, whiter than ever and still utterly expressionless, started to implode, slowly, like there was a black hole in the center of him. Zylus was sitting with his eyes closed, his jaw clenched, his upper lip twitching like it was trying to curl and he wasn't letting it.

"Wait wait, don't tell me: you got a _different_ story?" Strife said. "I guess he didn't want you to know he let his pet psycho off-leash long enough for somebody else to fuck him."

"You're _lying!"_ Panda snarled, drawing a second knife and readying himself to strike.

"What's it to you, short stuff? Don't tell me you—"

"Shtrife, if you don't shut up, he'sh going to kill you," Zylus said.

Strife raised an eyebrow, looking unbearably smug. "Awful concerned for my well-being all of a sudden, aren't you," he said."Why's that, I wonder?"

"Becaushe right now you're the only thing shtanding between ush and the Division," Zylus said tiredly, rubbing at his face.

"Bingo," said Strife.

"Is he? Really? Because last _I_ checked, everybody in this fucking _room_ just got burned all to hell by the Division!" Panda snapped.

"Not my fault you people wanted to live off-site in an unsecured location," Strife said, shrugging. "I was only conceding to _demandsh._ _"_

"Is it safer here?" Lomadia asked.

"Sure," said Strife. "I'm here."

"They'll kill you, too," Nano said.

"Nope, nah, I don't think so," said Strife. "'Cause one: I have a _whoooooooole_ lotta stuff they want, mainly money, and two: you folks are gonna kill _them_ before they get the chance. Now, if you're _nice,_ and don't cause me any further bodily harm, and don't make any messes, and pinky-promise you'll go right out and murder the whole Board for me, I'm willing to let you stay here, in this hyper-secure basement, and recuperate. Plus lending you some of that magic serum to get you all back on your feet sooner, _vis-a-vis_ the murdering."

"No fucking way," Panda snarled. "No fucking way I'm letting you people put _anything_ else in me."

"Hey, whatever you want, short stuff," Strife said. "I'm sure everything'll heal up on its own. In a few weeks."

"I'm sure it will!"

"'Kay, whatever. So uh, what, everybody else getting on the holistic remedy train, too?" Strife asked, looking around at everyone.

"If shomeone comesh in, I'll know if what they have ish legit," Zylus said. His voice was getting thin and hoarse, his face tightening with pain. "But it hash to be shomeone high-up, who worksh with the shtuff. Not shome intern you can . . . lie to."

"Doing okay there, buddy?" Strife asked loudly. Zylus winced. So did Lomadia.

"If you keep acting like a child, I'm going to put you in time-out," Nano snapped at Strife. "Go get your magic serum or whatever. I'll try it first, and if nothing bad happens, we can let Rythian use it. If he wants to."

"Yes, please," Rythian wheezed.

"I will also require supplies to repair myself," Lalna said. "I have emailed you a list."

"What, me?" said Strife, his brow furrowing. "How'd you get my email?"

"I have full access to all of your records and accounts," Lalna said. "Your security is not secure enough. I decided not to purchase the supplies with your money because you could claim fraud. If you in any way injure or contribute to the injury of any of my friends, I will sell your stocks, empty your accounts, and deliver all of the records of your illegal offshore holdings to five major press outlets and the HMRC, at which point you will be held liable for tax fraud and prosecuted accordingly. Lacking any of your prior investments to pay the court fees and any fines you are charged."

Strife stared at them. Their eyes turned bright yellow.

"In plain terms, Mr. Strife, you will be royally fucked," Lalna said.

"Son of a bitch," Strife said faintly.

"I think this is the bit where you walk away," Nano said, grinning devilishly.

Wordlessly, Strife turned around and tottered out of the room, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Lal?" Panda said. "I love you."

"Thank you," said Lalna, their eyes turning pink. "I love you, too."

"Could you really do all that stuff?" Lomadia asked.

"Yes," Lalna said simply.

It took another ten minutes for anyone to attend to them, by which time Zylus's migraine had really set in and he'd gone and curled up in a little misery ball in the corner. A young scientist, probably not much older than Panda, turned up without knocking or announcing themselves in any way. They brought with them a rollcart that had a glass jug of yellowish liquid and a whole lot of syringes.

"Nope," said Nano, as the scientist tugged the cart in behind them. "We _specifically_ said we'd be treated by people who worked with this stuff all day."

They frowned at her. "I _do_ work with this stuff all day," they said.

"Oh _really,"_ said Nano.

"Really," Zylus croaked feebly.

"Oh," said Nano, deflating. "Well. Fine. Carry on, then. _What's_ your name?"

"Benson," they said. They put on a pair of blue rubber gloves and unwrapped one of the syringes. "Whoever's going first, come on over."

Nano stepped up, defiant. Benson looked her over and made a pained face.

"Criminy, what's happened to you, then?" they asked.

"What's it _look_ like?"

"No, 's just, it's going to take loads of stuff to get you fixed up," Benson said. "Not sure I brung enough syringes, is all."

"Let's just start with _one,"_ said Nano. "But _before_ we do, has anybody assessed the cancer risks of this stuff?"

"Oh yeah," said Benson. They tugged a little plastic cap off the end of the syringe and unscrewed the top of the glass jug. "There's some alcohol wipes on the counter over there, you mind pickin' a spot that's got about three inches of burns round it and swabbin' it off?"

"Not until you tell me what the assessment _was,"_ she said.

"Oh," said Benson. "Right. Uh, no risk."

"Zylus, is that true?" Panda demanded.

 _"Nnngh,"_ said Zylus.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Zylus gave him a weak thumbs-up.

"Bullshit," said Nano.

Benson adopted a long-suffering expression and turned it on Nano.

"Look, miss, 'm just an intern, all right?" they said. "I spent the last three months collectin' boatloads of data on this stuff, 'cos that's what I get paid to do. Ten minutes ago my supervisor told me to come in here and do a trial somethin' with it 'cos I'm the person who knows it best. We done it on mice and none of 'em have grown tumors or nothin'. I just got told to come in here and use the stuff on anybody who wanted it, all right?"

Nano watched them closely for a moment, then crossed primly to the counter and tore the top off an alcohol wipe.

"Just one, to start off with," she said. "We'll see how it goes."

Benson shrugged and stuck the syringe in the rubber diaphragm on top of the jug, then upended the whole thing to draw out about five mils of the yellowish fluid. It was like measuring out insulin in large-scale, and the familiarity of the gesture was almost absurd. Nano swabbed off a space on her forearm and presented it to Benson.

"Might sting a bit," said Benson.

"Oh no," Nano said dryly. "I don't know if I'll be able to bear the pain."

"Deep breath," said Benson, unheeding, and stuck the needle in, and emptied the syringe. They tugged it back out and dumped it in a sharps container. Nano opened and closed her hand stiffly, scowling.

"What, is that—"

"Give it half a moment," said Benson, annoyed.

Despite himself, Panda craned his neck to watch Nano's arm. For a moment, there was no change. Then, quite suddenly, the skin around the injection site began to bubble, and then slough off. Nano made a startled noise and held her arm out as though trying to get away from it. Pus dribbled from her arm, and pinkish new skin rose up underneath it. The effect moved outward like a ripple, clearing nearly half her forearm of its burns, leaving fresh, healthy skin behind (along with a lot of pus and other assorted grossness).

"Holy _shit,"_ said Panda, agape.

"See?" said Benson, folding their arms. "Told you."

Carefully, Nano touched her own arm, running her fingers along the brand new skin.

"That's . . . _really_ fucking weird," she said. "Does it work on . . . other stuff?"

Benson frowned. "Like what?"

"Like third-degree burns," Nano said, gesturing to Rythian.

"Oh yeah, sure," said Benson, nodding.

"What about scars?" she pressed.

"Mm, not sure," Benson said. "Haven't really tried it on preexistin' scar tissue. I wouldn't think so, there's nothin' really _wrong_ with it."

"What about _eyeballs?"_ Panda blurted.

"Er," said Benson, frowning. "I dunno if—"

"Forget it," Panda said hurriedly. "I didn't—just forget it. Do whatever. I'm not getting your weird fucked up piss-water in me."

"Here now," said Benson.

"Benson," Nano interrupted. "Would you mind getting my friend over there the use of his hands back?"

Benson pursed their lips, then dragged their rollcart over to Rythian.

"He carries a surface voltage of approximately eighty thousand volts," Lalna told Benson earnestly. "You have to ensure two points of contact at all times."

Benson stared at them. Benson's eyes drifted down. Benson stared at their extremely robotic hand.

"Uh," said Benson.

"How about you just leave the cart and we'll get on with it," Panda said.

"Nope," said Benson, recovering. "Serum and me are a package deal. Soz."

"Ugh, _fine,_ whatever," said Panda. He went and sat down in the corner opposite Zylus and started taking inventory of his knives. All the ones he'd used against Sjin had been a total loss. He was going to actually run out at this rate.

It took half an hour and twenty syringes, but eventually everyone but Panda and Lalna was healed of their injuries. Rythian was sitting up and talking, albeit with a lot of pauses for coughs, and continually flexing his fingers, playing with the hem of his shirt and the seams on the exam table and the hem of _Lalna's_ shirt and basically everything else within arm's reach. He didn't appear to have fingernails anymore, but Benson had assured him that they would come in on their own.

As Benson was packing up to go, they turned to Panda.

"Sure you don't wanna give it a go?" they asked. "It'll make you hungry as all anythin', but it works a charm."

"No _thanks,"_ Panda said. He could still feel the slight pull and tug of the scar tissue above his new pancreas. He fancied he could feel the tracker in there, too, blipping away.

Benson shrugged. "Suit yourself. Say er, anybody want to sign up for like, clinical trials and monitorin'? Only my supervisor says—"

"Benson, go away," said Nano.

"Right," said Benson, and trundled out with their rollcart.

"I _am_ really hungry," Lomadia said. Her wings were worse for wear, missing a multitude of feathers, but at least the burns on her skin had cleared up. "It's like flying for ages, only I didn't even really fly that much."

"Same," said Rythian. "Only without the—flying. Thing. Should someone . . . get Zylus somewhere?"

Zylus made a very thin, very pained noise. Wordlessly, Nilesy got up and went to him, sitting down at his side.

"Looks like someone's _handling_ it," Panda spat. "I guess the rest of us are all fucking superfluous, as usual."

 _"That_ can be enough," said Nano. "I'm going to go see if I can find us someplace in here with beds. Real beds, not awful medical beds."

"I'll come with you," Lomadia offered.

"I'll stay," Lalna offered. "I believe my lack of detectable thoughts will be beneficial in caring for Zylus."

"I'm going to find food," Rythian said, hopping down off the table. "Panda, do you . . . want to come?"

"No," said Panda. He got to his feet anyway, stowing his knives in all their secret holsters and pockets. Every movement pulled at the burns, made his skin sting and smart. "But I want to stay here even less, so I guess I'll fucking go with you."

With that, the group split up, Lomadia and Nano wandering hand in hand, Nilesy and Zylus and Lalna remaining in the exam room, and Rythian and Panda heading for the elevator.

The ride up to the ground floor was excruciatingly slow and far too quiet. There was a loud _pop_ and Rythian winced.

"Is that . . . in your lungs?" Panda asked.

"Yes," Rythian said thinly. "It's fine."

"Are you going to be able to get another mask, or. . . ?"

"Probably?" said Rythian. The elevator slowed and stopped, and the two of them stepped out. Panda asked the receptionist if there was a cafeteria, and she directed them towards the back of the building.

"So the . . . serum. Thing," said Panda.

Rythian wiggled his fingers. They were paler than the unburned parts of him by several shades. All his new skin was significantly paler, giving him an interesting, mottled look.

"It's a thing," said Rythian.

"Apparently," said Panda.

"Are—are _you_ all right? Because you got burned, also, and—"

"Not badly," said Panda, making a face. "It's whatever, I don't care."

"Oh," said Rythian. "It's just that . . . it seems like it would hurt."

"Yeah, it does," said Panda. "So?"

Rythian raised his hands in surrender. "I don't— _so_ nothing."

They managed to find the cafeteria. It wasn't crowded at this hour, but it was at least open. Rythian made a beeline for the Italian food, and Panda followed him. They both got heaping plates of pasta carbonara, paid exorbitantly for it (with Strife's money), and found a table far removed from the Strife Solutions employees dotting the place.

The pasta was, at the very least, fucking _incredible._ Panda dug into it with wild abandon, not allowing himself to think a single number, not a single calculation. No correction doses, no counting carbs, no _nothing._ Just pasta.

"Fucking _hell,_ I'm going to do this every day for the next three years," he said, rapturous.

"Why three years?" Rythian asked through a mouthful of pasta.

"Because that's when my new pancreas dies," Panda said.

"What?" Rythian cried. "That's—that's stupid! How do you even—why does it only last _three years?"_

 _"Planned obsolescence,"_ Panda quoted. "Apparently."

"Eugh," said Rythian.

"You said it," said Panda.

"They'll probably have a real one by then," said Rythian. "A real—thing. Pancreas. For . . . the thing. Not a blackmail . . . trap . . . tracker. Thing."

"Everything is things with you, isn't it," said Panda.

Rythian blushed and coughed, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's just that—yes?" he said. "Words are hard."

The two of them finished their pasta. Panda snuck off and stole a couple of sodas before anyone could stop him. He gave one to Rythian, setting it on the table in front of him.

"Is this for me?" Rythian asked, pointing at it.

"Yeah, I guess," said Panda. "Unless you don't want it, then it's mine."

"No, I . . . I want it," said Rythian. He uncapped the bottle and took a long swig, then nearly spat it all out again when he started coughing.

"We've really got to get you a new mask," said Panda.

"You're telling me," Rythian wheezed.

There was a moment that was slightly longer than it needed to be.

"I'm . . . glad you're all right," Panda mumbled.

"Me, too," said Rythian, then hastily added, "am glad! That . . . _you're_ . . . um—"

"Oh, my God," Panda said rolling his eyes. "How are you more awkward than Zylus? _How_ is that possible?"

"I try very hard?" Rythian guessed.

"At what, being awkward?"

His eyes darted. "Yes?"

Panda sighed and got to his feet. "Come on. Let's see if we can bully somebody in here into making you a new mask."


	39. Chapter 38

The search for beds went a lot faster than Lomadia had expected it to.

There weren't any.

Nano managed to talk somebody into giving her a tour of the building, and it became obvious very quickly that the only place meant for sleeping was Strife's room up on the top floor. There were some exam tables down in the basements, but they didn't look good for sleeping on, and besides it was cold and there were no blankets.

"Maybe we could steal Strife's room from him," Lomadia said, once they'd finished their impromptu tour and Nano had sent the guide away.

Nano snorted. "Maybe," she said. "I don't think there's room for all of us."

"No, there is," said Lomadia. "Rythian would probably have to sleep in the chair, and a couple people might have to sleep on the floor, but it's a _really_ big room. You could fit four, maybe five people in the bed."

"I'll keep it in mind as an option," said Nano. "But honestly, I'd just feel . . . _eugh._ It'd be _gross._ Sleeping in his bed. _Eugh."_

"You could sleep on the floor," Lomadia said. "We can get a blow-up mattress and bring it in."

"We could do _that_ just about anywhere."

"But it wouldn't make him as angry."

"That's very true," said Nano.

Lomadia fidgeted. The two of them were hanging about in an employee breakroom up on the third floor. There was coffee, which Nano was drinking and Lomadia wasn't.

"Did he really—" Lomadia began, and stopped.

"Did who really what?" said Nano.

Lomadia gestured, frowning.

"Strife said all that stuff about Nilesy. You don't think it's _true,_ do you? It didn't really happen. He just said it to upset all of us, because he's mean."

Nano took some time to answer, turning her coffee cup round and round with her forefinger and thumb, frowning at it.

"I think _something_ happened," she said at last. "I'm not sure what, but . . . a couple days ago Zylus dragged Nilesy in looking like—looking horrendous, bruises and—and the like all over him, and wouldn't give me a straight answer on what'd happened, and then Strife turns up saying . . . what he said, and—I dunno, Lom. I'd _like_ to believe they didn't . . . y'know."

"Nano?" said Lomadia. "I'm really scared about Nilesy."

"Yeah, same," Nano said, emphatic.

"No, I mean . . . something bad is happening," said Lomadia. "Something's making him worse. And sometimes I think it might be Zylus."

Nano gave her an odd look.

"Why d'you say that?" she asked.

"I don't know. You've seen how they are. How Zylus treats him. It's all wrong. He says he's doing it for the best, but—but maybe he doesn't know what's best anymore."

"Can't say as I've noticed," said Nano. "But I trust you. And I definitely don't trust Zylus. I wish I could, but . . . there's been too many lies."

"What do we do?" Lomadia asked. "We've got to do _something,_ otherwise it'll just keep getting worse."

Raising her eyebrows, Nano blew out a breath through her lips.

"Well," she said. "I don't know that there's much we _can_ do, honestly. I'd say we should separate them, but I'm worried that might make Nilesy even _more_ unstable, and we really can't afford that right now."

"It wouldn't," said Lomadia. "It'd help."

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take," Nano said. "Look, so far as I can tell, whatever's gone wrong with him, Zylus seems to be the only person who can keep him under control. Until we've got a reliable backup plan, I don't think we should upset the balance, if we can avoid it."

"We _can't_ avoid it," Lomadia insisted. "It's just going to keep getting worse. It's messing up _both_ of them, and somebody's going to get hurt."

"Lom, sweetheart," Nano said, rubbing her forehead. "Look. It's not that I don't believe you. I _believe_ you. I believe that something is wrong and that it's harmful for everyone involved. But . . . honestly, Lom, it might not even _be_ Zylus. It could just be. . . ."

"Could just be _what?"_ said Lomadia, with a sinking feeling.

"It could . . . just be Nilesy getting worse on his own," Nano said. "That happens sometimes. People do that, especially when things are stressful and _especially_ when they won't get help."

"Last time he went to a place where they were supposed to help him they broke his brain so bad he thinks he's three people now," Lomadia said.

"I know, sweetheart," Nano said gently. "Most places aren't like that, though."

"How do you know?"

"I—" she began, and stopped. She took a sip of her coffee. She scowled at the window. She drew a slow breath and blew it out again.

"You _don't_ know, do you," Lomadia concluded.

"I've . . . never had occasion to find out," Nano said. "But they can't _all_ be horrific nightmare-factories."

"Why not?" she asked.

Once again, Nano started to answer and stopped herself.

"Well, I mean," she said at last, "there's plenty of people who get help and it actually _helps._ People recover all the time. I've read stories. Glowing reviews, in some cases."

Lomadia considered this, decided she didn't like it, decided she didn't want to argue about it, and decided to let it go. She fluffed up her wings and shifted in her chair.

"We should still separate them," she said.

"Oh, all right," Nano sighed. She drained the last of her coffee and got to her feet. "D'you want to take charge of Zylus, or Nilesy?"

"Um . . . Zylus, really," she said. Her chest was filling up with pain, a lump rising in her throat. "I don't think Nilesy . . . probably wants to be around me."

Nano took her hand and kissed her cheek, barely having to bend down at all.

"I'll look after him," she said. "And for whatever it's worth, _I_ love you."

"Thanks," Lomadia said miserably, unable to find any pleasure in the assurance.

Nano watched her for a moment, then tucked Lomadia's hair back behind her ear, her hand soft and gentle.

"I'm sorry, about . . . what happened," she said softly. "I know it must hurt. I'm here for you, if you need or want me. And I really do love you. I love you very, very much. And someday, if or when you're ready. . . ."

She trailed off. Lomadia looked over at her.

"What?" she said.

Nano cleared her throat and dropped her gaze.

"Now's probably not the time," she said. "I'll . . . tell you later. C'mon. Let's go pry Zylus and Nilesy off each other."

Lomadia watched her a moment more, then nodded and got to her feet.

"Okay," she said.

* * *

 

It was also a lot less difficult to separate Nilesy and Zylus than she'd feared. Nano took Nilesy away, and Lomadia simply picked Zylus up and put him on the exam table. She turned as many of the lights off as she could, then tore down the little privacy curtain and laid it over him, starting in on making it an approximation of a blanket.

"Lalna, you should go find some ice," Lomadia said, keeping her voice as soft as possible. "It helps him."

"Okay," they murmured. Their voice was so low even she could barely hear it. "How much ice?"

"I dunno. He puts it on the back of his neck, so like . . . two handfuls, probably."

"Okay," said Lalna. "Is there anything else I should get?"

Lomadia nudged Zylus with one finger. His lip curled and his face scrunched up.

"Opiatesh?" he said feebly.

"I don't think that would be wise," Lalna said, raising their voice so Zylus could hear them. "Considering your propensity for addiction behaviors, the likelihood—"

 _"Shut up,"_ Zylus moaned.

"Okay," said Lalna.

"I think probably just the ice," Lomadia said to Lalna. "Although, there's a sort of medicine he takes for them. I dunno what it is, but maybe you can find some and it'll help."

"Ashprin, ashetaminophen, and caffeine," Zylus mumbled. He added, more quietly, "Hard liquor."

"I'll see what I can find," Lalna said. They gave Lomadia a thumbs up, and crept out of the room as quietly as they could.

When they had gone, Zylus relaxed a little, letting out a breath. Since it was cold in the room, Lomadia set about making sure the privacy curtain was being as good a blanket as it could be, fussing over it until it was just so.

"Shtop . . . _neshting,"_ Zylus said, a thin smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

Lomadia tutted and made a few more small adjustments to the curtain. She smoothed the hair back off his face and kissed his forehead.

He burst into tears.

Startled, Lomadia stepped back, her wings fluffing up behind her. Zylus was properly sobbing, his face all twisted up with pain. There was blood in the snot that dribbled from his nose. He was struggling to breathe.

After a moment's indecision, she returned to his side and stood near his shoulder, laid a hand on his forehead and looked around for some tissues or something. He reached out and took her other hand, feebly, messing up the curtain.

"What?" she said, at a loss.

He pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled, gave a minuscule shake of his head and immediately winced. Lomadia sighed and took up petting his hair, brushing the sweat-slick spikes along his hairline with her fingertips.

"Does it just hurt really bad?" she asked. She kept her voice as quiet as she could, although she wasn't sure she could make her thoughts any softer. She tried, for a moment, until Zylus whimpered and swatted at her and she decided she was probably just making it worse.

"I can leave," she offered.

His hand tightened on hers, fingernails digging in.

"Pleashe don't," he croaked, his voice all stuffy with crying. She leaned down and kissed his forehead again.

"All right," she said.

A long time passed quietly. Zylus managed to stop crying, but he didn't let go of her. She was just considering whether it would be safe to leave him when he talked again.

"I didn't want thish," he whispered. "Lom, whatever happensh, I—I didn't _want_ thish."

"Didn't want what?" she asked, frowning.

"I can't—jusht . . . it washn't shupposhed to—I washn't trying to—"

He was staring to cry again. Lomadia went and got some paper towels and gave them to him so he could wipe his face off, although it was harder than she'd expected to get him to let go of her.

"I don't think anybody wanted it to turn out like this," she said to him.

 _"No,_ Lom, I—" He broke off. He bit his lip. He turned his face away. "Jusht . . . I jusht need shomebody to know. That I—that thish washn't—that I tried. I _tried_ to make it right. If I don't—if I die, I need . . . I want. . . ."

"You're not _dying,"_ she told him. "It's only a migraine, you get them all the time. It'll be all right. You'll be okay."

He shook his head again, but didn't say anything else, just lay there crying and clutching her hand. She stayed with him until Lalna got back. They brought a plastic bag full of ice and a can of soda.

"There's a cafeteria upstairs," they told Lomadia, handing over the bag of ice. "I couldn't find a pharmacy in the building to distribute medication."

"That's okay," she said. She picked up Zylus's head and put the bag of ice under his neck. "This'll probably help. Zylus, can you drink stuff?"

"No," he croaked.

"He gets really ill and throws up a lot," Lomadia explained to Lalna. "Can you stay with him? You don't think so it'll probably be less—"

 _"No,"_ Zylus repeated, more emphatically.

"I'm not going to stay in here with you all day," she told him.

"Jusht . . . not them," he said. "Pleashe."

"I can't leave you _alone,"_ she said.

"You can."

Lomadia frowned, then turned back to look at Lalna.

"Maybe if you can find, like . . . Panda," she said. "And he can take a turn. If he wants to, I dunno. I guess Rythian could do it, too."

"Rythian for preferenshe," Zylus said weakly.

"We'll probably all have to eventually," said Lomadia. "They go on for hours and hours, especially if he doesn't have his medicine."

"I'll attempt to find Rythian," Lalna said. Their eyes had gone a sort of purplish blue. They walked out again, not being as carefully quiet as the last time. Zylus winced when the door shut behind them.

"Why not them?" Lomadia asked.

He just shook his head.

* * *

 

After a few hours, Lomadia left Zylus alone in the room and went to find Nano. She'd hoped someone would come to take over, but no one had turned up. Zylus didn't seem to mind, so she fixed his makeshift blankets for him one last time and took her leave.

It took her a while to find Nano, since the building was big and she didn't have any real clues to go on. Eventually she happened upon her in an empty breakroom, playing solitaire with a pack of Strife Solutions-branded cards.

"Where's Nilesy?" Lomadia asked, stepping into the room and closing the door.

Nano frowned, her jaw clenching.

"I don't know," she said carefully. "And I _don't_ particularly care."

"You were _supposed_ to be watching him," Lomadia said, her wings fluffing up in annoyance.

"Well, sweetheart, he didn't want to be watched," Nano said, throwing down the card in her hand like it had offended her. "I told him that if he wanted or needed our help, we'd be here for him, and he told me to go to hell. So that was the end of _that_ conversation."

"And then you just let him leave? You just let him go away and you don't know where he went?" she demanded.

"Yes, Lomadia, I did, because he'd got his murdering voice on and I didn't particularly feel like dying today," Nano snapped.

"He wouldn't've _hurt_ you. He'd never hurt you, you're—"

Nano held up one arm. There was a ring of developing bruises around her wrist.

 _"Really,"_ she said flatly.

Lomadia stared for a moment, agape. She turned away, pinning her wings close to her back. She heard Nano get up out of the chair, and then felt a touch on her arm.

"I did try, sweetheart," Nano said gently. "I promise I tried."

"Sorry I got angry with you," Lomadia mumbled. She sniffled, her sinuses prickling with unshed tears.

"Thank you," said Nano. "I forgive you. And I understand."

Lomadia nodded. She couldn't find anything else to say.

* * *

 

That night, Lomadia went back to her nest under cover of darkness. The others had found their own places to sleep, inside Solutions Tower, but Lomadia was starting to feel cooped up and claustrophobic, and needed to feel the sky.

The nest, as Nano had predicted, had gotten moldy in the year she'd been away, and she'd had to throw out most of the blankets and the stuffed animals and even some of the books and toys. There were still some blankets left, though, and Lomadia had taken some of the ones they'd bought (with Strife's money) for the new flats, before the whole thing had burned down. She was tired enough that she went right to sleep, even though it was nighttime and there were parts of her that insisted she ought to be awake, aware, hunting.

She had dreams she couldn't quite remember and woke unsettled. With a premonition of dread, she flew back to Solutions Tower through the dawn fog. She half expected to see the building in flames when she got there, but outwardly everything seemed fine. She hurried inside, the back of her neck prickling like she was being watched.

"Excuse me," the person behind the front desk said, almost as soon as she walked in. Lomadia froze, tensing.

"What?" she said. She flexed her talons, clicking them on the marble floor.

"Mr. Strife asked that you be sent up to his office as soon as you arrived," the person said. "If you'll come get a keycard, please."

Apprehensive, Lomadia approached. The person held out a plastic keycard. Lomadia took it, looking them up and down.

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't know," the person said. "It seemed rather urgent, though."

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Is everybody else up there already?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that either," they said. They were starting to look nervous.

Lomadia scowled at them for a moment, decided they weren't knowingly sending her into a trap, and hurried off to the elevators. She went all the way up to the top floor, ready for a fight the moment the doors opened. The guards didn't stop her, or even take much note of her. Still, a heavy dread had settled in her stomach.

She flung open the door and half-leapt into Strife's office. Things weren't quite as bad as she'd feared.

Everyone was there—Nano, Panda, Lalna, Rythian, Nilesy and Zylus, and Strife—and none of them looked hurt. None of them looked _happy,_ either. Zylus in particular looked sick and waxen. Nilesy didn't have his mask. It hadn't made an appearance since the fire, and she was almost certain it had gotten burned up. She still wasn't sure if it was a relief or not.

"Well well, look who it is," Strife said. "Finally."

"What's happening?" Lomadia asked. "The person said it was urgent."

"The Board's run off," Nano said. "All of them. Somewhere more northern, apparently."

"Good," said Lomadia. "They're scared of us."

"Not good," Zylus said. His voice was hoarse. "They're going to ground while the Division takesh ush out. They're jusht getting out of the blasht radiush."

"They took some Division folks with 'em," Strife mentioned. "Some of their favorites. My guess is, they're holed up in a bunker somewhere with handpicked security so if you folks decide to follow them, you get cut to pieces trying to get in."

"And if we shtay here, the resht of the Division comesh after ush," Zylus said.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "So we go find them and kill everybody in the way, and then we kill them, too."

Strife barked a laugh. Zylus winced.

"I like the way she thinks," he said. "It's like a _train._ God, I want to live in a world that linear, it must be so nice."

"You're patronizing me," Lomadia said, scowling at him.

"Big words, wow," Strife said, raising his eyebrows. Lomadia took a step towards him, her wings flaring up behind her, and he raised his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm done."

"I believe Lomadia's plan is the best," Lalna said. "If we remain here, we'll eventually be captured or killed by the Division. If we run away, we'll eventually be hunted down and the end result will be the same. Our best option is to kill the Board, which will leave Mr. Strife the sole surviving Board member. He can then rescind the warrant for our capture by the Division and any local authorities."

"Except we'll still be murderers," Nano said. "Or at least Nilesy will."

"That is a long-term problem," Lalna said, their eyes going bright blue. "We are dealing with short-term tactics at the moment."

"Don't you get uppity with me," Nano said, offended.

"That's _assuming_ Strife won't turn on us the moment we've stopped being _useful,"_ Panda said, glaring at the man in question. Strife spread his hands, smiling.

"Who said you'd stop being useful once the Board was dead?" he said.

"Who said we wouldn't kill you, too?" Panda retorted.

"Yeah, that's really decreasing your usefulness-value there," Strife said dryly.

"At the moment, he'sh not planning to kill ush," Zylus cut in.

 _"Thank_ you," said Strife.

"Not to shay he'sh incapable of changing hish mind," Zylus said, glaring at him.

"Why are we talking about this?" Lomadia asked. "The Board's run off to hide. They're all in the same place. They've only got a few people guarding them. They'll be really easy to kill, so we should go kill them."

A beat of silence followed.

"When you say it like that—" Rythian said nervously.

"It sounds like an _enormous trap,"_ Nano said. Rythian cocked a thumb at her, making a face.

"So?" said Lomadia, her wings fluffing up. "If we stay here we're all going to die. If we run away we're all going to die. If we go get them we're all going to die but we can kill all of them, too. Lalna said that's what would happen, and they know everything. So we should go."

"Rythian hasn't even got a mask and Lalna's missing half their arm," Nano said. "And Panda's still seriously burned. They're trying to lure us out while we're not at full strength."

"I'm _fine,"_ Panda snapped. "I can kick ass any day. I don't give a fuck if it's a trap, we'll kill everybody in the building if we've got to."

"Maybe _you_ can, but Rythian's not going to be any help when his lungs are filling up with blood," Nano retorted.

"I can get Gus a mask," Strife said.

"That's _not_ my name," Rythian growled, a spark crawling up his arm. There was a _pop_ and he flinched like he'd been punched in the chest, and then started coughing.

"Intimidating," Strife drawled. "Anyway, the longer you people sit around here, the more likely the Division's gonna turn up and cut your strength down even more. There's a zillion of 'em. Even if you keep killing them like you did with the fire guy, they're gonna wear you down."

"Nano?" Rythian wheezed. "Is that true?"

"There's . . . a lot of them, yes," Nano admitted. "I don't know who's running the ground troops ever since Martyn got . . . spirited off, but I know there's at least a hundred of them. Not to mention Sjin's special forces. I'm sure somebody's stepped up to fill the empty command spots, so it's not like they're milling about being useless."

"If there are so many, why did they just send Sjin?" Panda asked, frowning.

"Because they wanted to kill us," Nano said. "And not endanger any of their own people. Sjin's—Sjin _was_ a bomb. You don't send your own people into Ground Zero."

"Apparently they were all right with losing _him,"_ Panda said.

"Of course they were," Nano said, a tinge of sadness coloring her voice. She shrugged helplessly. "He was Powered."

A little silence fell. Lomadia fidgeted. Strife licked his lips and looked away, his face pinched.

"I'm going," Panda announced. "Anyone who wants to come with me, get your shit together."

"I'll go with you," Lomadia said immediately.

Nano heaved a heavy sigh. "If Lom's going, I'm going," she said.

"I would also like to go," Lalna said.

"But—your arm—" Rythian said, his face pinched with concern.

"I allowed Nano to face mortal danger alone once," Lalna said coolly. "I am not going to do it again."

"Then . . . I guess I'll go too," Rythian sighed. "If—if I can get a new . . . thing. Mask."

"Nileshy?" Zylus prompted gently.

"Of course," Nilesy said. His voice was vague, his eyes distant. "Haven't got much of a choice, have I."

"Then I guessh we're all going," Zylus said.

"What, even you?" Strife asked, amused.

"Yesh, _even_ me," Zylus retorted, showing teeth.

Strife raised his hand. "Okay, sure, hey, whatever you say. I'll get some people to knock out a new mask for August over there."

"Not much better," Rythian said through clenched teeth. Strife waved a hand at him like he was a bad smell.

"Whatever. I guess you all want transportation, too?"

"And weaponry, and shome of that sherum," Zylus said.

"Uhhh, _no,"_ said Strife. "You people have _plenty_ of weaponry built-in, I'm not giving you anything. And that serum doesn't leave this building. No way, no how."

Nano opened her mouth to object, and Zylus held up a hand.

"Fine," he said. "Jusht the mashk, then."

Strife narrowed his eyes at Zylus. Zylus's face was completely unreadable.

"Sure," said Strife. "Okay. You all uh . . . meet up here tomorrow morning and we'll pile you all into a helicopter. You'll have to find 'em on your own, though, 'cause we only know the general area."

"That'sh fine," said Zylus. He pushed off the wall and headed for the door. "Shee you tomorrow."

He walked out. Lomadia watched him go, glanced at Nano, and then followed him out.

"Why did you just—" she began.

Zylus held up a finger and shushed her.

"But—"

_"Shh."_

She buttoned her lip and fumed all the way to the elevator. The doors closed, Zylus pressed the button for the ground floor and folded his arms.

"Now," said Zylus.

"Why did you let him say no?" Lomadia asked. "We could've made him give us all the stuff."

"Not thish time," said Zylus. "He washn't going to budge. We're jusht going to shteal it all from him inshtead."

Lomadia perked up.

"Oh," she said. "Good. When?"

"Right now," said Zylus.

 _"Right_ right now?"

Zylus looked up at her, raised his eyebrows, and vanished.

"How do you feel about being a dishtraction?" he asked.


	40. Chapter 39

"The plan ish thish," Zylus said, while the elevator continued to descend. "We go down to the lab where we met Benshon. Ashk the shecurity guard where you can find them. Whether or not they anshwer, I'll hear them think it."

"Can't you do that yourself, without me?" she asked.

"That part, yesh," said Zylus. "The nexsht part dependsh on whether or not they'll tell you where Benshon ish. If they _do_ tell you, we both go. If they _don't_ tell you, I go on my own and figure it out, and you head back upshtairsh."

"It still doesn't sound like you really need me," she said.

"I don't, but you followed me into the elevator," he said. "If you don't want to help, you can go your own way."

"No, I think I want to help," said Lomadia, wrinkling her nose.

"Sho. If the shecurity guard tellsh you where to find Benshon, we both go find them. You knock on the door and get them to come out, and I go in and shtart shtealing ash much sherum ash won't be misshed. You keep them out of the room for ash long ash you can, or until you hear me come back out."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"However you want, ash long ash you don't hurt them."

"What if they're not _in_ the lab?"

"Then we shuddenly got a lot luckier," Zylus said dryly.

"You should probably tell me what to do to distract them," Lomadia said.

"In a shecond," Zylus said. The elevator slowed, then stopped, and the doors opened with a _ding._ Lomadia stepped out and heard Zylus follow along behind her.

"Front deshk," he whispered. "We need a keycard to get down there."

"What do I say?" she whispered back.

"I'll tell you, jusht look like you know what you're doing."

Lomadia lifted her chin and shook out her wings and strode purposefully up to the front desk. The receptionist was already talking to someone, so she had to wait. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, fiddling with one of her pinions.

 _"Shtop fidgeting,"_ Zylus hissed. From how quiet his voice was, he must have stayed by the elevators and let her walk into the room alone. Lomadia clasped her hands behind her back and forced herself to hold still.

"All right, you're all set," the receptionist said to the person in front of Lomadia. "We'll see you next Monday, Mr. Toffolo."

The person thanked the receptionist and walked out of the building. Lomadia stepped up.

"Ah, back again," said the receptionist, looking her up and down.

 _"_ _Mishter Shtrife shent me to shee_ _Dr. Govind,_ _"_ Zylus whispered. _"I need keycard accshessh to bashement five."_

"Mr. Strife sent me to see Dr. Govind," Lomadia parroted. "I need keycard access to basement five."

"Yes, ma'am," the receptionist said cautiously, eyeing her. "May I ask your name, please?"

_"Ushe the aliash."_

"Hannah," she said.

The receptionist turned to their computer and typed some things.

"It doesn't look like Dr. Govind has any appointments scheduled today," she said, frowning.

 _"Thish ish for Mishter Shtrife'sh pershonal project,"_ Zylus said, and Lomadia repeated him dutifully.

"Is it," the receptionist said flatly. "And which personal project would that be?"

Lomadia wiped her hands on her trousers. She wondered what would happen if it went wrong, if the receptionist didn't believe her. She flexed her talons.

 _"Don't repeat thish: Lom, shtop fidgeting and trusht me,"_ Zylus said. _"Shay: the joint project with YogLabsh medical division."_

"The . . . the joint project with YogLabs medical division," she said. Her head kept wanting to turn towards Zylus, especially when somebody's shoes clacked on the marble floors as they walked through.

The receptionist's eyes widened just a touch.

"Ah," she said. "That project. Shall I inform Dr. Govind that you're on your way?"

"No, that's fine," Lomadia said.

 _"God_ _dammit,_ _Lom,"_ Zylus growled. The receptionist's eyes narrowed again and she opened her mouth to say something. _"Shay she already knowsh you're on the way."_

"She already knows I'm on the way," Lomadia added hastily.

_"It'sh off the booksh. But if you_ _ want _ _to call Mishter Shtrife and washte hish time, you—"_

He broke off suddenly. Lomadia repeated up to _waste his time_ and then trailed off. She risked a glance at the elevators and saw someone standing there, waiting, with the button pressed. That probably explained why Zylus had stopped talking.

The receptionist, meanwhile, was chewing her cheeks. After an endless pause, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"If I could get your name, the date, and a signature," she said, putting a ledger up on the desk. Lomadia found a pen in a cup nearby, and put down her alias name, the date (after asking the receptionist what it was), and made up a signature that was mainly squiggles. The receptionist fished in her desk, pulled out a plastic keycard, and swiped it through a machine. She handed it to Lomadia and took the ledger back.

"And if anybody asks, the person who let you in was Jenny," the receptionist said.

"Is that you?"

"Sure," she said, and turned back to her computer.

 _"Other elevatorsh, acrossh the room,"_ Zylus whispered. Lomadia glanced at the elevators they'd come down in and saw that the person waiting had gone. She turned her head the other way and spotted the second set of elevators. Without too much of a pause, she headed for them. Very faintly, she could hear Zylus tip-toeing along behind her.

The keycard worked, and both of them stepped into the elevator. She had to swipe it again inside before she could make the buttons light up. Zylus stayed invisible.

"That went okay," Lomadia remarked.

"Could have gone better," Zylus said.

"We're on our way, aren't we?"

"And maybe that resheptionisht jusht called Dr. Govind to make sure," Zylus said. "Pleashe don't do that again, it makesh it harder."

"You still said all the right stuff. It still worked."

"Lom—" Zylus began, frustrated, and cut himself off. He sighed. "Thank you for the help."

"I still don't see why _you_ couldn't've talked to her."

"Becaushe _you_ can't turn invishible and shneak into the elevatorsh."

"Oh," said Lomadia. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "So what's the joint project thing? With YogLabs?"

Just then, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened again. She found herself in the clean, white basement where Nano had been kept, and where they'd been brought after the fight with Sjin.

 _"Teshting the sherum_ _,"_ Zylus whispered. _"Now go ashk the shecurity guard where you can find Benshon."_

Uneasier than ever, Lomadia left the elevator and walked up to the security kiosk. There was a young black woman inside, bored out of her skull.

"Mm-hm?" she said, as Lomadia approached.

"I'm looking for Benson," she said.

"South wing, _B-_ five- _S-_ two," the guard said dully.

"Oh," said Lomadia, blinking. "Okay. Thanks."

"Uh-huh."

"Which one's the South wing?"

"Thataway," said the guard, pointing. She still hadn't looked up.

"Thanks," said Lomadia. She headed off. Once they were around the corner, just her and Zylus's footsteps and breathing, she murmured, "That was really easy."

"Almosht too eashy," said Zylus. "Keep your eyesh open. I don't like thish."

"Are you sure you're not being paranoid?"

"No, I could alwaysh be being paranoid. Keep your eyesh open anyway." He muttered under his breath, "I need a fucking drink."

Lomadia didn't comment on this, heavily uncomfortable.

"Maybe I can make Benson go away," she mused, as they entered the South wing. Although there was a card-reader or thumbprint scanner or something, the doors were standing open.

"How?" Zylus asked.

She shrugged. "I dunno. I'm sure I could make them run off for something or other."

"They'd lock the sherum up when they went."

"Sure, but you could already be in the room, and then just open the door from the inside."

There was a moment of silence. Lomadia wondered if Zylus was reading her thoughts, right then.

"It'sh hard not to," he said, confirming her suspicions. "And it might work. Where would we shend them?"

"I dunno. That's your job to come up with."

"Gee, thanksh," Zylus intoned.

"You're the one who can see in people's heads, you ought to know what would make them run off."

Again, Zylus was quiet for a moment. They came to a door marked B5S2, and Zylus put a hand on her arm. He was still invisible.

"Wait jusht a shecond and let me lishten," he said.

Lomadia stood still, trying not to think too loud. She must have done pretty poorly at it, because Zylus slapped her arm and told her to go stand further down the hallway. After about a minute of sulking, she felt him touch her arm again.

"Knock on the door and tell them, _Madhu_ _shaid to tell you the Shection L people are here,"_ he said.

"Madhu said to tell you the Section L people are here," she repeated to herself. "Okay. Will I have to go with them?"

"Probably not, but do it if they look shushpicioush of you," said Zylus.

"Okay," said Lomadia. "Who're the Section L people?"

"No one important," he said. "Ready?"

"I guess," she said.

She walked down the corridor to room B5S2 and knocked. There was a lot of grumbling from within, and then the door opened and Benson stood in the gap, looking her up and down. They were wearing a labcoat and big stupid goggles like the ones Nano used to use.

"Yeah, can I help you?" they said.

"Madhu said to tell you the Section L people are here," Lomadia said.

Benson went _white._ Without a word they whirled, darting back into the lab. Lomadia caught the door and felt Zylus slip past her. She looked in and saw Benson hurriedly packing everything up—the big yellow jar of fluid, a whole bunch of other, smaller glass jars, the syringes, some test tubes. They shut down the computer and yanked out both memory sticks plugged into it. They ripped off their goggles and labcoat and stuffed them into a cabinet. With one last harried look around the room, they darted back to the door and squeezed out past Lomadia.

"Shut it, shut it," they said, and then immediately: "Wait! The lights!" And darted back inside to turn all the lights off. They came back out, wringing their hands.

"Okay?" said Lomadia, befuddled.

"Shut the door, shut it, really this time," they said. Lomadia pushed the door closed and heard it click. Without a further word, Benson scurried off down the corridor, casting nervous glances all around. Lomadia watched them go, frowning. After a moment, the door clicked and opened again. She stepped in and pulled it shut behind her.

Zylus flicked on the lights, no longer invisible, and started taking out the big jar of fluid and the syringes.

"Why did they do all that?" Lomadia asked. "Who're the Section L people?"

"Shtrife shtole thish shtuff from YogLabsh," Zylus answered, setting the jar and a bunch of syringes on the countertop. "Or had it shtolen, at leasht. Nobody'sh shupposhed to know he hash it."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lomadia. "So once we've got this, then where are we going? You said some stuff about weapons?"

"I only shaid that to throw him off. I already have the weaponry," he said. He held his jacket aside, revealing a shoulder holster with an actual, real gun in it.

"Where did you get _that?"_ Lomadia cried, her wings fluffing up in alarm.

"Shtrife," said Zylus, letting the jacket fall back. "I shtole it. The holshter, I bought. With Shtrife'sh money."

"You're not going to _use_ it, are you?" She looked towards the door, listening for Benson's footsteps.

"Not in here," said Zylus. "And not unlessh I have to. Shee if you can find a bag or shomething to put all of thish in."

"Why do you have Strife's gun?" she asked, not budging.

"Sho that _he_ doeshn't have it, can we get on with thish?"

She glared at him for a moment, then set about finding a bag. Zylus opened up a box of syringes and started filling them from the big jug, then clipping the plastic caps back on. Lomadia eventually found a heavy plastic bag, smallish but serviceable. She pulled it out from under the cabinet, but hesitated in taking it over to Zylus. He was still filling up syringes, intent on his work, frowning in concentration. He didn't _look_ any different than usual, and at the very least he seemed sober. Still, she chewed on her doubts, trying to decide whether or not to voice them.

Zylus made a face, capping off another syringe.

"Ashk," he said flatly, not looking at her.

Lomadia took a deep breath and spoke.

"You've got to leave Nilesy alone," she said.

Zylus paused, halfway through getting out another syringe. He sighed, then picked up where he'd left off, moving considerably more slowly now.

"Lom—" he began.

"I know you're not _trying_ to make him worse," she went on, before he could say anything to confuse her, to make things less clear-cut. "But you're making him worse. And you've got to stop. You've _got_ to leave him alone."

"And what if he doeshn't _want_ me to leave him alone?" Zylus asked softly.

She shrugged. "Then he's wrong."

"You don't get to deshide what'sh besht for him," he said. His hands were shaking as he filled up another syringe, spilling a little bit of the serum on the countertop.

"Neither do you."

"I'm _not."_

"You're making him _worse._ Why can't you see that? Why won't you—"

 _"I_ am not doing _anything_ to him," Zylus snapped, rounding on her. "I am doing everything I can to keep him from _hurting_ shomeone. From hurting _himshelf."_

"And how you're doing it is making him worse!" she cried, her wings flaring out so wide they nearly brushed the walls.

"What makesh you think you know _anything_ about what'sh going on?" he demanded. "Jeshush fucking _Chrisht_ you're shtubborn! How long are you going to keep doing thish, Lom?"

"Until you leave him alone!"

Zylus took a sharp breath like he was going to reply, then stopped himself. He held up a hand, bowed his head, and sighed.

"When thish ish over," he said, "and the Board'sh dead, and we're not in immediate danger. Then you and me and Nileshy can talk about thish and figure shomething out. All right?"

"No, _not_ all right," Lomadia said. "You said the same thing on the boat. You said when we'd got Nano back, we'd work on getting Nilesy well, and you haven't done it."

"That'sh becaushe the Division turned up and burned our fucking building to the ground," he snapped, falling right back into his anger like it had never left him. Again, he stopped to get himself under control. "Thingsh are happening very fasht, Lom. There hashn't been time, and theshe thingsh _take_ time."

"But—"

"Will you, pleashe, let me finish," he said, taut. "Nileshy ish not in a good plashe right now. He'sh exshtremely unshtable, and he . . . hatesh you. All of you."

"No he doesn't," she objected. "No he _doesn't,_ that's stupid, why would you say that?"

"Let me _finish,"_ he growled. "You all left him tied up, shick and terrified and in pain, and nobody _ever_ made that up to him. He hash no reashon to trusht you, or like you. All of you did the _exshact_ shame thing Xephosh did to him. You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"It was your idea!"

"How wash I shupposhed to know what would happen?" he demanded. _"You're_ the onesh who shaw how badly it wash hurting him and did _nothing._ Do you honeshtly think I would've left him there, being tortured, if I'd known about it? _Nileshy_ undershtandsh that, why can't you?"

"He doesn't hate us! He doesn't!" she insisted. There was a lump in her throat, a stinging in her sinuses. Her nose was going to start running. There were ugly fish in her stomach, swimming round and round.

"Lomadia," Zylus said gently, his face falling into a pitying expression. "He hatesh you sho much he'd rather shleep with _Shtrife_ than reach out to any of you."

"Then—but—no," she said, pulling her wings in close and clenching her fists. "No, that's not what happened. That's not why it happened!"

"I know it hurtsh, and I'm shorry, but—"

"No! You're—you're _lying!_ You're always lying!"

"Why would I lie about thish, Lom?" he asked.

"I don't _know!"_ she cried, helpless. Snot was starting to run down towards her lips, and she sniffled angrily. "I don't _know,_ but you _are,_ you've _got_ to be!"

"When thish ish over," Zylus said, still in that gentle tone, "I _promishe_ you, I will do everything I can to make thish right. To patch up the thingsh you broke. And if that meansh leaving Nileshy alone, _I will do that._ I promishe. But we can't work on it right now, becaushe there'sh too much elshe that needsh doing. And if I fall through on it, you have full lishenshe to hit me until it'sh done. Okay?"

"No," she said, miserable. She wiped her nose on her wrist and sniffled again.

"We don't have a choishe, Lom," he said. "I'm coming with all of you tomorrow to deal with the Board. I have to be there, Nileshy hash to be there."

"But today and tonight you can leave him alone," she said. "You don't have to talk to him or be around him at all."

"He _needsh_ me," Zylus said, his voice going hard.

_"Why?"_

Zylus hesitated. He dropped his eyes and swallowed.

"I jusht don't want him to have to be alone," he said. "Lasht time I left him alone, he wound up in bed with Shtrife. I'm . . . shcared. I'm shcared of what he'll do to himshelf if I'm not there. Of what he'll do to other people. I don't want what happened to Sjin to be—to be pointed at anyone elshe. _Anyone_ elshe."

"You're not there right now," she pointed out.

"And I'm fucking terrified," he said.

Lomadia narrowed her eyes. "You left him with Nano," she said, accusing.

"And Lalna, and Rythian, and Panda," Zylus said. "I think they're more than capable of keeping him out of trouble."

"Good, so he can just stay with them, instead of you."

 _"Lom—"_ Zylus began, and for the third time stopped himself. He took a deep breath, eyes closed.

"What?" she said, defiant.

"If you want to look after Nileshy for a day, _fine,"_ he said. "But if he wantsh to shtay with me, you _let him._ Deal?"

"No," she said.

"Of courshe," he grumbled. _"Chrisht,_ I need a drink. Have you talked to anyone about thish?"

"No," she said again, although she knew it wouldn't do any good.

"And what did _Nano_ have to shay about it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, just for the sake of resisting.

"She shaid Nileshy wash unshtable, and would get worshe if I left him," Zylus corrected.

"She also said there'd been too many lies to trust you."

"I'm not _ashking_ you to trusht me," he said. "I'm ashking you to trusht _Nano,_ and Nano'sh judgement. Lom, I know you love Nileshy, and you want to think the besht of him, but he ishn't well. He ishn't shafe to be around. I felt like I could leave him alone for an hour becaushe—becaushe honeshtly, Shtrife wash in the room, and that takesh the targetsh off of everyone elshe'sh backsh. Ash long ash Shtrife ish around being a bigoted pieshe of shit, Nileshy'sh going to go after him preferentially. Sho yesh, I left him long enough to do thish with you, but I don't want to leave him any longer than I have to. Nano undershtandsh. _Nileshy_ undershtandsh. I'm not ashking you to trusht me. I'm jusht ashking you to trusht _them."_

Lomadia pursed her lips, clenching her jaw. Everything he was saying seemed to make sense, and she _wanted_ to believe him, but. . . .

"You don't get to be alone with him," she decided. "I'm going to stay with you, so you're not alone with him. That way if you start doing something that's going to make him worse and you don't realize it, I can stop you."

The muscles in Zylus's jaw flickered as he clenched his teeth. He turned away and started collecting all the filled syringes in a box.

"Fine," he said. "Let'sh get out of here before shomeone findsh ush."

"Okay," said Lomadia. She went and handed him the bag, and he took it. "I don't think there's anybody out there."

"I don't hear anyone nearby, either," he said. He stuffed the box of syringes in the bag, and then tossed in a box of alcohol wipes after it. He weighed the bag in his hand, adjusted his grip, and vanished. "Am I all gone?"

She examined the space where he'd been standing. A little corner of blue plastic floated in the air.

"You've missed a bit of the bag," she said.

Zylus huffed out a breath, and the scrap of blue vanished.

"Got it," she told him.

"Then let'sh go."

* * *

 

As it turned out, she didn't have to face the discomfort of being alone with Zylus and Nilesy, because all of them spent the whole rest of the day together. When Lomadia and Zylus caught up with the rest of the group, they were hanging out in a big boardroom on the top floor, which apparently they'd convinced Strife to let them use as a home-base, at least temporarily. Lalna was sitting off to one side with their eyes all dark, while Nano, Panda, and Rythian played some card game at the big table. Nilesy was sitting by the window, staring out at the city.

"Where've you two been, then?" Nano asked, sitting up straighter as they entered.

"Stealing things," Lomadia said. "We've got some of that magic serum. And Zylus's got—"

"Lomadia," he warned.

"A _gun,"_ she said, glaring at him pointedly.

"Hung on to it, did you," Nilesy said vaguely.

"What've you got a fucking _gun_ for?" Panda demanded, frowning.

"For the aeshthetic, why do you _think,"_ Zylus said, rolling his eyes.

"You're not going to _shoot_ anyone," said Panda.

"Ideally, no," said Zylus.

"Do you even . . . know how to use a gun?" Rythian asked, looking him up and down.

"You'd be shurprished what you pick up," Zylus said. "Do we have a plan for tomorrow?"

Rythian and Nano glanced at each other. Panda looked at Rythian like he was trying to share a glance, and then pouted when it didn't happen.

"Lal's looking for the Board," Nano said. "They think they should be able to find them, I'm not sure how."

"They said they still have some access to YogLabs servers," Rythian said.

"That was it," said Nano. "So they can find prearranged points. Or I guess emails, or something. It's already taken _ages,_ I think they're having to bypass security."

"All right," said Zylus. He went over and sat at the table, setting down the blue plastic bag with the serum in it. "Sho what about when we get there?"

"That's . . . a bit more of a problem," Nano said. "We haven't worked out who all they've taken with them yet."

"Does it matter?" Lomadia asked.

"That's what I've been saying," Panda said. "We kill everybody in the building, job done."

"Lasht time you got into a fight with another Powered pershon, she nearly shot your head off," Zylus said.

"But she _didn't,"_ Panda retorted. "I was fine. It would've been even _better_ if _somebody_ had warned me she was going for the gun!"

"Do you have _any idea_ how fasht you people think?"

"Oh, are we a _you people_ now, is that how this is going? Well I'll tell you what, Niles got shot because of _you,_ not me. And all those people _died_ because _you fucked up_ and didn't do your fucking _job,_ so don't you get fucking high-and-mighty with me!"

Zylus regarded him coolly.

"Are you done?" he asked.

Panda leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over.

"I'm about fucking done with _you!"_ he snarled.

"Panda, stop it!" Nano snapped. "Sit down, God's sake. The last thing we need to do is be ripping each other's throats out. Zylus is right, we're better off prepared."

"So you're taking _his_ side, now?" Panda said, shivering where he stood.

"There aren't any _sides,_ Panda," said Nano. "We're all on the same team, here."

"Are we?" he demanded. "Since when?"

"Since right now," Rythian cut in. "Since we're going to die tomorrow if we're _not."_

Panda blinked at him, drawing back slightly. Rythian put his hands on the table and glared around at all of them.

"Some _shit_ has been happening," he said. "And I have seen it happening, and I've stayed out of it, because it is not my business. Everyone is falling apart, fine. That happens. Day after tomorrow we can all go our separate ways and pretend none of this ever happened. But if you keep going after each other, turning on each other like rabid _fucking_ dogs, _we are all going to die._ I don't care who did or didn't do what they were supposed to. I don't care who hurt who, or who lied, or who fucked up. Starting _right now,_ we do what we're supposed to, we work—as a team—we have each other's backs, and we put the God damn drama on _hold_ until we're done destroying the organization that wants to _exterminate every Powered person on the God damn earth!"_

He stopped for breath, crackling. There was a wet _pop_ and he only barely flinched.

"So day after tomorrow, you can all fight, and yell, and throw blame around, and that will be _fine._ You can rip each other to pieces over whatever you want. But today, and tomorrow, you're going to act like a _team,_ because if you don't, you are going to get _Lalna_ killed."

Lomadia swallowed, turning to look at Lalna. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw everyone else follow suit. Lalna was still just sitting there, eyes dark, a look of faint concentration on their pleasant face.

"And so help me _God,"_ Rythian uttered, "if Lalna dies because you _idiots_ couldn't put your shit away for forty-eight hours, I will _personally_ kill everyone in this God damn room."

There was another silence. Lomadia bowed her head. Zylus pinched the bridge of his nose, swallowed and licked his lips. Panda scratched the back of his head.

"Okay," Nano said at last. "So let's . . . let's plan."

"Yeah," Panda mumbled. "Good idea."


	41. Chapter 40

It was past sunset by the time they actually got around to planning anything. Lalna had suddenly reanimated about five minutes prior, getting up and going to the door just in time to intercept an incoming intern who handed them a tablet and a new mask for Rythian. Lalna had thanked them and sent them off, then passed the mask on to Rythian, who had put it on with no small amount of gratitude. He'd been coughing up flecks of blood for the past hour. Zylus had gone away for a brief period and come back considerably more relaxed. Nano pretended she couldn't smell the alcohol on his breath, for courtesy's sake. Now, though, most of them were hunkered together around the conference table, poring over a map Lalna had pulled up on the tablet. The notable exception was Nilesy, who was still just staring out the window.

"The secured location is just north of Leeds," Lalna said, pointing to the little red circle on the map. "It used to be an air raid bunker, but I believe it has been renovated. The nearest town is called Adel, and I believe we should arrange a rendezvous point there in case we are separated at any time during the operation."

"Sometimes I forget you used to be a tactical military android," Nano said.

"I attempt to forget that fact as often as possible," Lalna said. They zoomed in on the map using their uninjured hand. The other was still wrapped in cloth and had a thick, black rubber glove around it, stiff and immobile. "The secured location is surrounded by sparse woodland which is likely monitored. It is approximately four hundred feet from the road and borders closely on a golf course," they said. "This is in some respects to our advantage, as it may make our approach less conspicuous to those within. However, it will make us more conspicuous to the general populace, as it will be impossible to approach the bunker without being seen. It also greatly increases the potential for collateral damage."

They pulled up an image of a dilapidated concrete structure, half-buried under dirt, vines, even trees. The exposed concrete was mottled with moss and lichen. A wide, unpaved footpath led up to a small black door, featureless save for its hinges.

"There is one entry point, a steel door set into concrete and partially buried," Lalna went on. "This serves as a choke-point for any incursion and will be very difficult to bypass. If those inside are alerted to our approach, they will simply wait inside the door and kill us as we enter."

"I could make it in," Panda said, leaning in. Lalna shook their head.

"Even at your top speed, it is unlikely that you would be able to enter the bunker through the door without being seriously injured or killed," they said. "Likewise, Zylus's invisibility would not be sufficient to prevent him from being detected and subsequently killed. I will likely be able to disable or spoof any security devices, but it may require more time than we have."

"So what do we do?" Rythian asked, frowning. The new mask was snug on his face, more closely resembling the one YogLabs had made for him than the ones built by Zoey. It seemed to be working spectacularly.

"I believe our best option is to utilize Nilesy's Powers to remove the door entirely," Lalna said. They switched back to the map, zoomed out slightly, and pointed to a meandering blue line that skirted the edge of the circle. "This is the Adel Beck, which should contain sufficient water to be useful and is at close enough range that it should not tax Nilesy unduly to utilize it."

Nilesy did not offer any confirmation or denial. Nano suspected he wasn't even listening. Lalna continued on regardless.

"Once the door is removed, we will be able to assess the hazards inside," they said. "Likewise, the removal of the door may lure any guards outside, where we have greater maneuverability."

"Won't this all be a bit loud?" Nano asked. "We'll pull the whole building to us right off the bat."

"Yes," said Lalna. "And they will have to exit single-file through the doorway to get to us. We will be able to utilize their own choke-point against them, if they are stupid enough."

"Asshuming they're _not_ shtupid enough?" Zylus said.

"Then we will clear out the entrance corridor and breach," said Lalna. "We will reassess once inside."

Zylus nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer. Nano, however, was not.

"This could turn into a waiting game," she said. "If they have cover inside the corridor, they could shoot out at us while we can't get to them. And then while we're sitting about with our thumbs up our butts, they call in reinforcements to shoot us in the back."

"I should be able to deactivate all internal security systems," Lalna said. "It may take some time, but if they're remotely accessible at all I can disable them."

"Yes, but can you disable all communications in and out?" Nano asked.

Lalna frowned, their eyes going orange.

"I'm not sure," they said.

"Right, so," Nano said. "We'll function on the assumption that reinforcements are on the way. How're we going to get _in_ the door before they get to us?"

"Once the door is open, I believe Nilesy should be able to clear the corridor," said Lalna. "If not, Zylus and Panda may be able to do so with minimal injury to themselves."

"So the reinforcements they call in come up behind us while we're inside instead of outside," said Nano. "I _really_ don't like going in loud."

"Nileshy might be able to jusht open the door, inshtead of ripping it off," Zylus said. "I've sheen him do it before. I'll be able to tell if there'sh anyone shtanding near the door, and if there'sh not, he can jusht let ush in and we can lock the door behind ush."

Lalna's eyes went dark for a moment, and then they nodded.

"That is useful information, and tactically preferable," they said. "In the event that the corridor is guarded, however, we may be forced to use the loud method."

"What are the odds it's guarded?" Rythian asked.

"Approximately ninety percent," said Lalna.

Panda leaned over and tugged on Lalna's sleeve to get their attention.

"What about once we're inside?" he asked. "Who's in there from the Division?"

"There are currently three high-ranking Division members who have taken an unexpected leave from their offices," said Lalna. "Pyrion Flax, Turps Markin, and Sips Piszok. It is unlikely that these are the only Division members in attendance, but I believe they represent the greatest threat."

"Shitting _fuck,"_ said Nano.

"I have accessed their files and determined optimal strategies for each of them," said Lalna.

"Good," said Zylus. "Let'sh hear it."

Lalna closed out the image and the map and looked out the window at the darkness outside.

"This may take some time," they said.

"Give ush the short version," Zylus said.

Lalna gave him a look that, if Nano hadn't known better, she would have called _annoyed._

"I will attempt to condense the material as much as possible without sacrificing any crucial information," they said, their eyes going bright blue.

Nano reconsidered whether or not she actually knew better.

"The largest threat is Pyrion," Lalna said, pulling up a picture of him on the tablet. "He is one of four known nucleonic morphogens, commonly referred to as _alchemists."_

"Oh, _shit,"_ said Zylus.

"That is an accurate assessment," said Lalna.

"What's that mean?" Lomadia asked, frowning. "What's an _alchemist?_ _"_

"He turns stuff to gold by touching it," Nano said. "I've seen him do it. It goes back after a few minutes."

"It's potentially deadly if applied to an organic system," Lalna said. "At the very least, it would result in the loss of limbs. It's also likely he could short-circuit me, as gold is extremely conductive."

"And we deal with this . . . how?" Rythian asked, his eyes darting.

"The optimal solution would be for Zylus to shoot him," Lalna answered.

"Not happening," said Zylus.

"I had expected that response," Lalna said. "His file does not specify, but I believe it would also be possible for Nilesy to injure or kill him utilizing only the water in his body. Although it's possible that the plumbing in the building will be accessible to his Powers, I am not willing to rely on that possibility."

"And if he can't do it, either?" Nano asked.

"Then someone will get hurt," Lalna answered, shrugging. "It may be possible for Rythian to electrocute him, but this should be used as a last-resort, as it requires very close proximity, which places Rythian at risk for—"

"Don't tell me!" Rythian said hurriedly, reaching out and grabbing their hand. "Don't tell me. I really, _really_ don't want to know."

Lalna's eyes flicked purple, then pink, then settled back to blue. "Sorry," they said.

"Nano, you knew him," Zylus said. "What'sh he like, ash a pershon?"

"Quiet?" she guessed. "He sided with Xephos a lot. He seemed pretty . . . unshakeable?"

"Any family?" Zylus pressed.

"He's got a daughter," said Nano. She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Jusht want to know what I'm working with," said Zylus. "Lalna, what about the othersh?"

"The next-largest threat is Sips," said Lalna, switching to a picture of him. "He is a litho-autokinesthete composed entirely of limestone. Although he cannot inflict as much damage to us as Pyrion, it will be extremely difficult for anyone other than Nano to injure him. The optimal solution would be for Nano to dissolve his head."

"That'll _kill_ him!" she cried.

Lalna turned to her, expressionless.

"Yes," they said.

She struggled to find a response, opening and closing her mouth. She turned away, sickened.

"This is going to be a bloodbath," she muttered to herself.

"What's the Plan B for Sips?" Panda asked.

"Again, an appropriate usage of Nilesy's Powers would likely be able to shatter him," Lalna said, "in the event that sufficient water is available. Judging by the fact that his mass is approximately two hundred and forty-three kilograms, it's likely that he is composed of solid limestone. However, based on secondhand accounts, it is evident that Nilesy was easily able to lift and ~~destroy~~ my—"

They broke off while their eyes flickered with a blurred series of colors. They made a noise of clearing their throat and picked right back up again.

"—my old body, which weighed over three hundred kilograms. I do not believe mass will be an issue."

Nano glanced at Nilesy, who was still staring out the window vacantly.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she said. She wasn't sure she could take watching him dash someone to bits for a third time.

"And Turpsh?" Zylus prompted.

"Turps is a hypersonic amplifier with an accessory passive charismatic aura."

Lomadia made a frustrated noise, her wings fluffing up, her mouth pulling into a pinched frown.

"He yells really loud and stuff breaks," Nano translated. "And it's hard not to like him at first."

"Great, so I'll run in and slit his fucking throat," said Panda.

"That would be optimal," Lalna said.

"He's _also_ a sniveling coward," Nano cut in sharply, "so _maybe,_ in this _one instance,_ murder won't be necessary!"

"Maybe," said Zylus.

"What about the Board?" Panda said.

Lalna's eyes darkened to a coal-like red.

"There are no records on any Powers the Administrative Board may or may not possess," Lalna said.

"What, not even the Director?" Nano asked.

"His record has been purged," Lalna said. The screen of the tablet warped as their hand slowly clenched on it. Rythian patted their arm solicitously. Their eyes turned pink. "It is very frustrating," they added sheepishly.

"Nano, you know what they've got, right?" said Panda, turning to her.

"Not really," she said. "I know the Director's got some kind of super-strength. I've seen him flip a conference table like it was nothing. Xephos's was pretty much all in his brain, apart from the healing thing."

"Hypermitosis," Nilesy said.

"What?" said Panda, frowning at him.

"It's called _hypermitosis,"_ he said listlessly, still staring out the window.

"O- _kay,_ great, whatever," said Panda. "So we've got _no idea_ what the others are packing?"

"If anything," said Nano. "I honestly don't think they're Powered at all, unless they've done very well at hiding it and are just oppressing _all other Powered people_ for shits and giggles."

"It'sh been known to happen," Zylus muttered darkly. Nano raised her eyebrows at him, but he wasn't looking at her and didn't acknowledge her unspoken question.

"Good, so once we've got past the Division people, it'll be easy," Lomadia said.

"You haven't got to be Powered to be dangerous," Panda said.

"I guess," said Lomadia. "But you could kill probably most of them before they could get out of their chairs, and Rythian can kill people by touching them, and I can rip their arms and legs and heads off, and Nilesy can do all _sorts_ of things to them—"

Nilesy laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. He did not offer any other comment. Lomadia fluffed up her wings and leaned away from him.

"Provided we are able to access their location, I believe we will be able to eliminate the Board without serious injury to ourselves," Lalna said. "I am . . . not sure what we should do afterwards."

"Get the hell out of there before reinforcements show up?" Nano suggested.

"That's a good plan," Lalna said.

There was a prolonged silence.

"So . . . nobody's going to be able to like, actually _sleep_ tonight, right?" Panda said.

"Nope," said Nano.

"Probably not," said Rythian.

"I don't think so," said Lomadia.

"I can always enter sleep mode," Lalna said. They looked around at everyone and added, "But it's not vital to my function that I do. I've already set up a partial reboot protocol in case I have to shut down and need to be removed from the area quickly."

"It doesn't matter," Panda said. "I just thought, y'know, if nobody's going to be sleeping anyway, we should do something. Go have dinner and play a bunch of board games or something. Just so we're not standing about worrying all night. Besides, it's not like we've got anywhere to sleep."

"I . . . would not object to that," Rythian said.

"Yeah?" said Panda, perking up. He cleared his throat and shrugged, turning away and folding his arms. "Well, fine, whatever. What about everybody else? Because I'm not staying up all night with _Rythian."_

"I'm up for it," Nano said, biting back a smile.

"It sounds fun," said Lomadia.

"Oh for fuck'sh shake," Zylus sighed, getting to his feet and heading for the door.

"Where're _you_ going?" Nano asked.

"Shomewhere where I can shleep!" he called over his shoulder. The door thudded shut behind him.

"Spoilsport," Panda muttered.

"Can't fault him for wanting to sleep," Nano said, shrugging. "I wish him the best of luck."

"He's going off to get drunk again, is what he's doing," Panda asserted.

"Well—you don't know that," Nano said. She fidgeted where she sat. "What should we do about dinner, then? D'you think we can get pizza delivered here?"

"I'll check," Lalna said.

Panda sat back, fuming. There was a blur and suddenly he had a knife in his hand, flipping it around and around, twirling it at dizzying speeds without even looking at it.

"He's . . . been good about staying sober before important things," Rythian offered.

"Not that fucking good," Panda said. "You could've lit him with a match earlier. I don't know _how_ he thinks we don't notice. I don't care. He can do whatever he wants."

"Right," said Rythian, shaking his head.

Lomadia leapt up suddenly, her wings flaring out to almost fill the room.

"You can't go!" she cried.

Nano turned to see Nilesy standing at the door, apparently having snuck away from the window when she wasn't looking. He stood very still. His head tipped to one side.

_"Can't?"_ he said, in that slow, dangerous voice that Nano had heard one too many times.

"No, you can't!" Lomadia said. "Or—or I've got to go with you. But you can't be alone with him anymore, we agreed!"

"Oh, _we_ did, did we?" Nilesy said, half-turning, showing teeth.

"Lom, drop it," Nano warned, adrenaline making her skin tingle.

"No no, which _we_ decided this?" Nilesy said. There was fire on his breath. His hands were shaking.

"M-me and . . . me and Zylus," said Lomadia. Her wings shrank back in close. She was leaning away from him.

His lip curled. "You're a _horrendous_ liar," he said. He turned and yanked the door open, stalking out.

"I'm not _lying!"_ Lomadia called after him. She started for the door, and Nano caught her by the arm.

"Just—let him go, sweetheart," she said. "Just let him go."

"But we _agreed!_ We said they wouldn't be alone together anymore, because it's making him worse, and I said—"

"Lom? Sweetheart, I believe you," said Nano. "And if you've agreed, then I'm sure Zylus will _stick_ to that agreement. All right?"

"No! It's _not all right!_ Especially not when he's been drinking! Why won't anyone _listen_ to me!"

"I _am_ listening," Nano said gently. "I promise you, I'm listening. I hear you. Please listen to me when I tell you that going after Nilesy right now is a very bad idea. I know you want to think the best of him, sweetheart, but I don't want you to get _hurt."_

"He wouldn't—" Lomadia began, and stopped herself. All the fight went out of her and she turned away, hanging her head. Her wings drooped like withering flowers. With a sigh, Nano put an arm around her waist and hugged her.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said. "I know it's hard."

"They can both go to hell together, far as I'm concerned," Panda grumbled.

"Day after tomorrow!" Rythian cut in sharply. Panda muttered something else, but it was unintelligible.

"Um," Lalna said. They were ticking their one functioning thumb against the immobile one, glancing around the room with pale purple eyes.

"Yes, Lal?" Nano said.

"What would everyone like on their pizza?" they asked meekly.

* * *

 

It was a cold, foggy morning when they left Solutions Tower. The helicopter's blades whipped the mist around them into swirls and vortices. The city was invisible below, only shapes and shadows looming indistinctly. The inside of the helicopter was loud, so loud that it was almost painful. Lomadia was holding two balled-up t-shirts against her ears and still looked distressed. None of them spoke much for the hour-long journey. Rythian and Lalna were holding hands the whole time. Nano kept one knuckle touching Lomadia's leg. Panda sat near the door and stared out the window, scowling, his leg jittering at blurring speeds. Zylus was sitting across from Nilesy, holding both his hands and stroking his knuckles, watching him intently. He looked a little less hungover than usual.

Nano wasn't sure, because Nilesy's neck was such an utter mess of bruises, but she thought there was a fresh hickey in there somewhere.

They had distributed the syringes full of serum before getting into the helicopter. They each had three, except for Lomadia, who'd only gotten two. Nano touched hers multiple times during the helicopter ride, one in each jacket pocket and one sewn into the inside of the jacket itself, courtesy of Lomadia.

They also each had a burner phone, which Nano herself had spent several hours trying to make untraceable. It had taken a good bit of fiddling and some help from Lalna, but eventually she'd managed to disable their trackers, which she'd decided was good enough.

The helicopter landed in a field near a church, currently empty but obviously well-used. All of them piled out of the helicopter and hurried away, hunched over while the wind whipped at them. When they were clear, the helicopter took off again, spraying them with sleet before thrumming away into the distance. The silence it left behind was eerie, incongruous. Nano couldn't be sure if it was the silence of a sleepy little town on a rainy day or the silence of a graveyard.

"Let's get inside," she said, cocking her head towards the church. She started off for it, and the others followed. The back door was unlocked, and she held it for the others before coming inside and pulling it closed behind her.

The silence inside the church was thicker than the silence outside, stuffy, almost tangible. The dripping of water from their clothes and hair onto the stone floor made Nano's eye twitch.

"Zylus?" she whispered, and her voice echoed half a thousand times. "Are we alone?"

"In here? Yesh," he answered quietly. "The town'sh not abandoned. It'sh jusht bushinessh hoursh on a Thurshday and nearly everyone commutesh."

"Right," Nano said, a blush rising towards her cheeks. "I figured."

He gave her a knowing look, but had the courtesy not to say anything. She couldn't help but be relieved that he was sober enough to hear her thoughts.

"Are we going to use this as our place?" Lomadia asked, turning her head to look all around the church.

"I'd rather not," said Nano. "We can find somewhere better. This was just to get out of the weather. And out of sight. Lal, any ideas for a safehouse?"

"There's a locally-owned inn approximately half a mile from here," they said. "It's less than three miles from the secured location and has vacancies at the moment."

"Isn't that a bit, I dunno, _unsafe_ for a safehouse?" Panda asked. His voice was too loud in the thick silence. Nano winced, as though God was sleeping in the next room.

"There isn't a location that's sufficiently fortified to be a safehouse," Lalna said. "I'm just choosing a meeting point. I believe the inn is our best option for that, since we can remain there for several days if necessary."

"Yeah, but what if they like, rat on us?" Panda said. "Tell the Board we're here."

"We just arrived in a helicopter clearly emblazoned with the _Strife Solutions_ logo," Lalna said, tipping their head to the side. "It's very unlikely we haven't already been noticed and reported."

"We should . . . probably get moving, then," said Rythian. "So they don't have time to come out and get us."

"Agreed," Panda said instantly. "The less standing about, the better."

"We'd better go straight to the Board," said Nano. "Maybe we can beat the news there."

"I doubt that's possible," said Lalna. "I believe it's better to take our time in order to prepare properly. It's more likely that the Board will fortify their defenses as soon as they receive word that we've arrived. It's to our advantage to make them wait, as their guards will likely get bored and become less attentive as the initial influx of adrenaline diminishes."

Nano raised her hands in surrender. "You're the tactician," she said, "I defer to you."

"Thank you," they said.

From the church, Lalna led them through the dozy little town. Most of the houses were dark and shuttered, and few cars passed them. The mist thickened to a slow drizzle, prickling Nano's skin with cold and slowly soaking through her clothes and hair.

The inn was open, and there was an old woman dozing at the front desk. Zylus went in and arranged rooms for all of them while the others waited outside.

"This feels too easy," Panda said quietly.

"We knew it was a trap coming in," Nano said. "I don't think they're going to massacre us in the streets. There's too many witnesses, it's too messy. They'll at least wait until we've got to the woods."

"That's _very_ reassuring, thanks," said Panda.

"We'll be all right," Nano assured him.

Zylus came back out just then. He tucked one key in Nilesy's pocket and handed another to Nano.

"Have you got one for everybody?" she asked.

"Jusht thoshe two," he said. "One room."

"How come?"

"It'sh better if they don't know exshactly how many of ush are shtaying in one plashe."

Nobody questioned this, and with that they all started off once more. The town was nearly abandoned, growing only more so as they headed towards the golf course and the little patch of woods where the bunker was housed.

"This is _really_ creeping me out," Panda hissed, glancing around at the rows of empty, identical houses. He had a knife in each hand, and he was so tense his shoulders were up around his ears.

"Keep it together," Zylus said. "They can't shneak up on ush with Lom and me lishtening."

"Don't tell me what to do," Panda muttered. "I'm just worried because there's no _witnesses_ anymore."

"That'sh all _you_ know," said Zylus.

"Oh, great, so we're being watched?"

"By a lot of retireesh," said Zylus.

They broke from the main road to follow a little footpath into a patch of woods. The trees were dripping, slimy, gray. The leaves and brush underfoot were too wet to crackle or crunch. They followed the path for less than five minutes before Lalna stopped them, holding up a hand and pointing.

"It's there," they said.

Buried amidst the sodden leaves and dead branches, a few bits of angular concrete poked out incongruously. There was a black steel door set into one small wall. Nano drifted over to the nearest tree and hid behind it, for all the good it would do. Around her, the others followed suit.

"Lal, can you get the security offline?" Nano asked.

Lalna's eyes darkened, and their body froze up. Their breathing stopped, the small motions of their hands and eyes ceased.

"There is a closed circuit camera system," they reported. "I will disable it as soon as Nilesy attempts to open the door. There is no other security or communications that I can access. I'm sorry."

"It's plenty, Lal, thank you," said Nano.

"Zy, anybody in the corridor?" Panda whispered.

"No," said Zylus. He shut his eyes, winced, and shook his head. "There'sh at leasht—at leasht shixsh people pretty closhe by, but none in the corridor."

"So we're good to go?" said Lomadia, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"We should be," said Zylus. "Whenever you're ready, Nileshy."

Nano leaned forward a little to look at Nilesy. He was standing with his back to a tree, head tipped back, eyes closed. His hands were held out, palms-down, near his hips. His fingers twitched.

"Is he—" Rythian began.

"Give him a shecond," Zylus said quietly.

There was a silken, slithering noise, growing steadily louder. The leaves off to the west started to stir. A thin tendril of water snaked its way through the trees, past Nilesy's ankles, up to the door. Nano poked her head out and watched it wriggle under the crack in the door.

"Everybody ready?" Nilesy breathed.

"Ready," Nano said.

"Ready," Panda confirmed, vibrating where he stood.

"Ready," said Rythian. Lalna gave a thumbs-up and Lomadia nodded.

"Do it," Zylus said.

Nilesy made a careful gesture with one hand, and there was a _click,_ and then a squeal of rusted hinges, and with a whirr and a gust of wind Panda was off like a shot.

The next thing Nano heard was a hail of gunfire.


	42. Chapter 41

_"Panda!"_ Rythian cried, slipping in the leaves as he scrambled to get to the door.

"He'sh fine!" Zylus snarled, catching Rythian by both elbows and hauling him back behind he tree. "Rythian, he'sh _fine!"_

The gunfire stopped, leaving Rythian's ears ringing, his heart pounding his his throat.

"Um," Panda said, his voice warbling and thin. "There seems to be some sort of turret."

"Christ," Rythian whispered, sagging where he stood.

"Nileshy, take care of it," Zylus said.

Nilesy took a deep breath. His head twitched, one hand made a fist.

From the bunker, there was a clanging noise, followed by another deafening burst of gunfire. Rythian ducked on instinct. Zylus kneed him in the tailbone.

"Don't _do_ that while I'm touching you," he hissed, then shoved Rythian in the back and let go of him. Rythian stumbled over to the next tree and put his back against it.

"Panda?" Nano called.

"I'm—"

Nilesy opened his eyes and made a sharp, upward gesture. There was a _thud_ from inside the bunker. Nilesy twisted his hand, and there was a painful screeching noise.

"Go," he said.

"Okay," Nano said, and with only a single steadying breath, sprinted into the bunker. Lomadia followed suit, her wings stirring up the leaves as she propelled herself towards the door. Zylus vanished. Lalna looked at Rythian and held out a hand.

"Oh, Christ," Rythian muttered to himself, took their hand, and ran with them into the bunker.

Just inside the door, he nearly cannoned into Panda, only avoiding it because Lalna yanked him aside at the last second. The corridor was narrow, with concrete baffles sticking out from the walls. The others were plastered to the backs of them, much as they had been with the trees outside. There was water all over the floor, a mangled piece of machinery lying in the middle of the corridor about five meters down.

"Why are we waiting?" Rythian hissed, hiding behind one of the concrete baffles with Lalna.

"I hear people coming," Lomadia whispered back.

"So shouldn't we—"

_"Shh!"_ Panda insisted.

Nilesy stumbled in and was shoved up against the same baffle that Panda was hiding behind.

"Why aren't we—" Rythian began again.

"Guns are less effective at close range," Lalna said. "We'll ambush them when they come to investigate."

Rythian bit his lip and nodded. He could hear the tromping of feet now, multiple pairs, echoing up the dark corridor.

"Shtay here," Zylus said from somewhere near Panda and Nilesy. Nilesy sagged, and Rythian heard a single pair of footsteps splashing away.

He held his breath as the enemy footsteps came closer. He nearly bit his tongue off when someone barked, _"Hold!"_

He looked down at the water on the floor, puddled close to his feet. He listened as the boots started forward, _splishing_ in the shallow puddles. He began to reach down, slowly, slowly, and then stopped. If Zylus was still out there, still standing in the water, if for some reason he couldn't hear Rythian thinking this stupid, _stupid_ plan, if Nano or Lomadia were so much as touching a corner of a puddle—

There was a sudden _thud_ and a grunt of pain, and someone yelped in alarm and a gun went off. Panda dashed out into the corridor. Rythian plastered himself to the cold concrete. More gunfire blasted through the confined space. Chips of concrete hit him in the face. Lalna put their arm across his chest and pinned him to the wall. Someone screamed. There was a _ripping_ noise, a splatter, four more gunshots.

Silence.

"A bit of fucking _warning_ would've been nice!" Panda snarled.

"You handled it," Zylus said.

"Jesus Christ, have you killed _all_ of them?" Nano demanded, her voice thick with revulsion.

"No, thish one'sh shtill—" Zylus said.

There was another gunshot.

"Yes," said Panda.

Rythian leaned out from behind the concrete baffle just in time to see Zylus deck Panda right in the mouth.

Panda went sprawling, the assault rifle in his hands clattering across the floor. It ran up against one of the six bodies, most of which were still dribbling blood. Lomadia was standing there with red all over her claws next to a headless body. Panda leapt to his feet with a knife in his hand and murder in his eye and went for Zylus in a blur.

The water at his feet wrapped around his ankles and sent him crashing to the floor for the second time in as many seconds.

"Wouldn't, if I were you, darling," Nilesy said lightly, leaned up against the wall casually. He was smiling, his eyes glittering. "Otherwise Rythian'll kill all of us."

"He fucking _hit_ me!" Panda snarled, struggling wildly as the water lifted him up and dangled him upside-down. It had also pinned his arms to his sides. He had a knife in each hand.

_"You_ fucking _murdered shomeone!"_ Zylus retorted, pointing to one of the bodies. Like the others, it was dressed in SWAT gear. Unlike most of the others, half its head had exploded outwards. The stench of blood and death was starting to fill the corridor.

"So fucking _what?_ That's what we fucking _came here for!"_

"Rythian darling, shall you or shall I?" Nilesy asked mildly.

"Wh-what?" he stammered, reeling.

_"She_ washn't a Board member! She wash jusht doing her goddamn _job!"_ Zylus snarled.

"Work for _m_ _onste_ _rs_ and you _deserve_ to fucking die!" Panda shot back.

"Kill everyone," Nilesy elaborated, watching Panda struggle with a detached sort of curiosity. "Or does that wait until Lalna dies? Won't be long either way, at this rate."

"Everybody _shut the fuck up!"_ Nano shouted.

Silence fell, ringing with echoes. She glared around at all of them, white smoke rising from her collar, her breath coming short.

"Nilesy, put Panda the _fuck_ down," she ordered. "Lalna, pick Rythian up so he doesn't fucking electrocute everyone walking down the corridor. Zylus, keep your idiot mouth shut, and Panda, please _refrain_ from killing anyone who's _on our side._ Everyone put your fucking _dicks_ away, take your heads out of your arses, and _get fucking moving!"_

Rythian opened his mouth to say something when Lalna scooped him up in a bridal carry and started off down the corridor.

"But—wait—"

"She's right," they said, stepping over bodies.

He saw Zylus vanish into thin air. Panda fell unceremoniously to the floor and clambered to his feet, knives in hand. Lomadia fell in behind them while Nano snapped at the heels of the others, herding them along.

The corridor ended in a narrow stairwell, which was mostly dry. Lalna set Rythian down, but kept their functional hand on his arm. There wasn't space for them to walk abreast, so Lalna went first, their eyes casting a dull reddish glow over the walls.

"Can you tell what's ahead?" Rythian asked, keeping his voice down.

"No," said Lalna. "I no longer have the requisite sensors. I'm sorry."

"But do you hear . . . anything?"

They tipped their head to the side, their pace slowing fractionally.

"There is some movement further ahead," they said. "I'm not sure where it is or what the source is."

Abruptly, a doorway loomed up out of the darkness, and Lalna stepped up to it and put their ear against it. Rythian signaled at the others to be quiet while Lalna's eyes dimmed. He could only make out shadowy figures on the stairs, silhouetted against the gray light filtering in from outside.

"I believe the next room is clear," Lalna said at last, straightening up. "I'll go first, just in case. Please wait here until I give the all-clear."

Rythian squeezed their hand and stepped back, being mindful not to bump into anyone. Lalna carefully opened the door. Light spilled out into the stairwell for a moment. Lalna slammed the door shut again.

"It is not clear," they said, their eyes white.

From the other side of the door, a drawling voice echoed out.

"Hey, c'mon, fellas, why so shy?"

_"Sips,"_ Nano whispered.

"Come on in, guys," Sips said. "We'll have a . . . just a big ol' party."

"Zylus?" Rythian said.

"What?" said Zylus, much closer to him than he'd suspected.

"Um. Is he—going to shoot us as soon as we walk in?"

"It's a party room in here," Sips went on. "Gettin' real boring all by myself."

"It'sh—hard to tell," said Zylus. "I don't think sho."

"Fucking _brilliant,"_ Panda muttered.

_"You_ try reading a rock'sh thoughtsh," Zylus retorted.

"Move," Nano said, elbowing her way to the front of the group.

"You shouldn't go first," said Lalna.

"I know him, Lal. He's an ass, but he plays fair."

Before anyone could stop her, she flung the door open and strode into the room. Lalna followed on her heels, and Rythian hurried after. He heard the others' footsteps behind him, transitioning from damp stone stairs to the glossy white tile inside.

The room was large, circular, brightly lit. The walls and ceiling and floor were all white, and for a moment Rythian was blinded with a recollection of YogLabs. The scars in his abdomen ached, and a jittery apprehension wound up his spine. Sparks crackled up his back and through his hair.

Sips was standing in the center of the room, directly between them and the only other door. He was stocky, thickly built, with skin like gray rock and eyes like flint. He was wearing a white-and-blue jumpsuit nearly identical to Sjin's. As they entered, he cracked his knuckles and then his neck with a sound like splitting stone.

"Well lookee who it is," he said, his gaze fixed on Nano. Every movement of his jaw let out a grating, scraping noise that set Rythian's teeth on edge.

"Get out of the way, Sips," she said.

"No can do, sorry," he said. "If you guys wanna turn around and go home, that's okay, though. _Boy,_ there's a lot of you. Whatcha all doin' here?"

"You know what we're doing here, otherwise _you_ wouldn't be here," said Nano. "Sips, listen to me. You know what the Board's done. What they do to people like us. You know what they did to Martyn, Christ's sake."

"Sure do," said Sips, unconcerned. "I took him to his uh . . . his little appointment. Mostly so ole Xephy's murder-bot wouldn't explode his head all over me. You don't gotta tell me all the nasty shit that goes on under my nose, I got a sense of smell."

Nano's jaw clenched, but her voice stayed level.

"I'm not asking you to help us," she said."I'm just asking you to get out of the way."

"Yeah, see, there's a big ole problem with that," Sips said laconically. "I also know what _you_ guys did. To Sjin."

"He burned down a building full of innocent people and tried to kill us," said Nano.

"Well yeah, sure, that was his job," said Sips. "I don't see anybody who told you to turn him into pudding."

Slowly, Rythian started edging along the wall, hoping Sips's attention was too focused on Nano to notice anything else. He hoped Zylus was doing something similar.

"That's what happens when you're an idiot," Nilesy said brightly.

With a grinding sound, Sips turned his head to look at Nilesy.

"Oh boy," he drawled. "It's the King Furry."

"Nilesy, shut up," Nano hissed.

"Not terribly fond of the nickname," Nilesy said. "Did you make that up yourself?"

"You been causing us a whole lotta trouble, you know that?" Sips said, his stone lip curling to reveal yellow, crystalline teeth.

"Clearly not enough," said Nilesy. He tipped his head to the side and grinned. "D'you want to know how Sjin died?"

"Nilesy _shut up,"_ Nano insisted, edging away from him, her eyes flicking between him and Sips.

_"Groveling,"_ Nilesy said, with relish.

Without a word, Sips thundered into motion. He went straight for Nilesy. A knife grazed his shoulder with an explosion of sparks. His feet cracked the floor. Nilesy dodged out of the way, laughing. Sips slammed into the wall behind him with a deafening _crunch._ Dust shook down from the ceiling. Lomadia leapt at him and he swatted her, backhanded. There was an awful _crack_ and she yelped in pain and flew back in a cascade of feathers.

_"Lom!"_ Nano screamed, running to her.

Sips wrenched himself loose from the wall. Panda darted in, struck him again. There was another burst of sparks, an awful screech. Sips swung at him and missed.

"I've got her, _I've got her!"_ Zylus snarled.

Lalna caught Sips by the arm before he could go after Nilesy again. Sips swung around and punched them in the gut so hard their eyes flickered. He kept his momentum, threw them off. They slid across the floor, their voice flanging as they cried out. Rythian's vision went red.

Sips's head swung around to look at Nilesy. He dug in his toes and barreled after him again. Again Nilesy slipped out of the way. Sips's swinging fist clipped his shoulder. He cried out, spun by the force of the blow. Sips crashed into the wall again, yanked himself loose and shook the dust from his arm.

Rythian darted up and grabbed him by the shoulder, one-handed.

There was a moment of silence. Sips looked down at Rythian's hand. Sips looked up at Rythian.

"Huh," said Sips.

His only warning was the twist of the shoulders, the _whush_ of something scything through the air. The stone fist caught him square in the chest. Pain exploded through his torso. He hit the ground and tumbled. Sparks swarmed across his vision. He couldn't breathe. He tasted blood. His chest was on fire. His ears were full of ringing.

The floor shook underneath him. The whole room was spinning. Lalna's face swam into his vision, their eyes bright white. He clutched at their wrists as they cupped his face in their hands. Dimly, through the ringing in his ears, he heard Nano snarl something. He tried to draw breath and the pain burst forth anew. There was a weight on his chest so heavy it felt like someone had nailed his breastbone to his spine.

Ringing gave way to a sizzling hiss, the thunder and crunch of footsteps. Lalna was speaking to him, but he couldn't make sense of the words. His vision was starting to go dark. He couldn't breathe. Lalna touched his belly, just above his diaphragm. He managed a short, agonized gasp. The pain almost blacked him out.

_"You son of a bitch!"_ Nano snarled, somewhere very far away. There was a fizzing, gurgling noise, almost words, almost screams. The shuddering of the floor had become erratic. There was one massive _crash_ that jolted Rythian so hard it sent another shotgun-blast of pain through his chest. Blinding whiteness burst behind his eyes. His body was full of hot red light, burning him up from the inside, radiating from the center of his chest.

"—collapsed," he heard Lalna say.

"Vee, can you. . . ." Zylus said, before his voice faded to ringing. Rythian couldn't breathe. The red light was burning through his skin.

Something grabbed his sternum and yanked _up._

He would have screamed if he'd had the breath. The pain was all-consuming. He snapped out like a light.

* * *

 

Slowly, consciousness returned. Lalna was holding his face in their hands. There were pinpricks of pain over his chest, a dull ache in his ribs and sternum. His heart and lungs felt bruised.

He drew a careful breath. No blast of pain accompanied the motion. His vision started to come into focus.

"Lal?" he croaked.

"Yes," they said. "You are going to be all right. Nilesy was able to set your ribs and sternum before the serum was applied."

Rythian let out a breath, sagging. A hand wandered over his chest, pressing on his ribs, his sternum. The area was tender, but not agonizing.

"I can shtill feel shome fracturesh," Zylus said. "Rythian, shtay down for a minute."

"Easy," Rythian wheezed. He lay still, just watching Lalna's face. Their eyes were slowly shifting down from white to pale purple.

"Holy _shit,_ Nano," Panda said quietly.

"I didn't mean to," Nano said, her voice thick, as though she was on the verge of throwing up.

"Hell of an accident," Nilesy remarked.

"Shut up," Lomadia snapped. "You keep talking and it keeps making things worse. Just shut up."

"Oh, _dear,"_ said Nilesy, and Rythian could hear the grin in his voice. "Come now, darling, I was just moving things along. Cutting to the chase, as it were? It's not as though it wasn't going to come down to violence. Zylus knows."

"Don't drag me into thish," Zylus muttered. He sat up straight, taking his hand off Rythian's chest, and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "We weren't getting through the door without a fight, no."

"There, see?" said Nilesy. "Just preventing any wasted time. And now Nano gets to join the exalted ranks of us murderers! Delightful."

"Shut. _Up,"_ Lomadia growled.

"Or what?" Nilesy breathed.

"That'sh enough," said Zylus, getting to his feet. "We should keep moving, otherwishe shomeone will come and find ush. Lalna, help Rythian up."

"Okay," said Lalna. They got their hands under his shoulders and helped lever him upright. His head spun for a moment, and the ache in his chest worsened, but overall it was manageable. There was a deep exhaustion settling into his limbs, like he hadn't slept or eaten in far too long.

What was left of Sips's body was lying on the floor, still bubbling slowly. Most of its head was gone. There were pockmarks on the shoulders and chest and hips, showing through burned tatters in the uniform. Gray sludge pooled near the head, crested with yellowish foam.

"Holy shit," Rythian said, sickened. He tore his eyes away, struggling to his feet with Lalna's help.

"So that's five syringes we've burned through," Panda said, looking down at the empties in his hands. "Because Rythian got all of mine and Zylus used two of his on Lom. Which means, if we keep going the way we've been going, we're _fucked."_

"Your optimism is inspiring," Nano said. She was hunched over by the wall, very deliberately not looking at the body on the floor. She looked rather green.

"Okay, yeah, sure, let's just _hope_ nobody else gets hit," he said.

Rythian reached idle hands into his pockets and found the linings wet. With a sense of creeping dread, he pulled the syringes out. All three were either cracked or smashed completely, and none had any useable amount of serum in them.

"Um," he said. "Make that . . . eight. Syringes. Sorry." He held up the broken ones for them to see.

"Fucking Christ," Panda hissed.

"Well, this is going splendidly," said Nilesy.

"Vee, pleashe, for onshe in your life, shtop antagonizing people," Zylus said. "Nano, pull yourshelf together. We have to go."

She took a deep breath, straightening up. She shut her eyes and let the breath out slowly.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, let's—I'll just . . . freak out about this later."

"Good enough," said Zylus. "I'll go firsht thish time. Keep Rythian and Lom near the back. They're not in fighting condition."

"I can fight!" Lomadia objected, even as Zylus disappeared.

"That arm'sh not going to be fully healed for a month at leasht," he said, "and we're down to twelve doshesh of sherum, which won't go very far."

"Fucked," Panda muttered to himself.

"Keep up," said Zylus. There was a sound of footsteps, and the far door opened to an invisible hand. Shaking his head and smiling to himself, Nilesy followed, and then Panda, then Lomadia and Nano.

"Lalna?" Rythian said, as they helped him totter to the door. "What are the odds we all die?"

"Approximately forty-four percent," said Lalna.

"That's . . . good?" Rythian guessed.

"Sort of," said Lalna. They fidgeted, then said, "The odds that at least one of us will die are almost ninety percent."

They stepped through the door into the corridor beyond, a gently-sloping downward spiral in the same white tile as the last room. It was brightly lit and thoroughly off-putting. Ahead, the others crept along, attentive and on-edge. The lingering ache in his chest was making it difficult to breathe properly.

"I'm sorry I asked," said Rythian.

"I'm sorry I told you," said Lalna.


	43. Chapter 42

The bunker seemed to go on forever, maybe only because they were going so slowly. Panda had half a mind to bolt ahead and scout the whole thing out, but the notion of the alchemist had him on edge. He'd heard stories about an alchemist in Beirut who'd used her Powers to turn a room full of debutantes into a room full of double-amputees. Just thinking about it made his legs tingle.

After an interminable downward journey, Zylus hissed at them to stop.

"There'sh another shquad up ahead," he whispered, still totally invisible. Panda wondered who, exactly, he was hiding from.

"How many?" Rythian asked, still leaned up against Lalna for support.

"At leasht twelve," said Zylus. "Maybe more. Definitely armed."

"Fine, we'll just fuck them up like we fucked up the last bunch," said Panda. "What's the hold up?"

"The _hold up_ ish I don't want you to get killed!" Zylus snapped, reappearing suddenly.

"Oh, fuck off, Zy," he said. "They couldn't hit me. I've handled more people than that before."

"And lasht time, you got shot," Zylus said.

"Because my blood sugar was crashing! That doesn't _happen_ anymore!"

It was growing ever more tempting to just run ahead, dash in and take care of it before anyone could stop him. Zylus pointedly moved in front of him, one hand out like he was approaching a feral dog.

"I know you're capable," he said gently. "But we don't have the luxury of rushing into—"

Panda darted off to one side and dashed past him. Zylus's fingers brushed his arm, an instant too late to catch him. He zoomed around two more turns of the screw-thread corridor before he spotted an open door. He kicked off the wall and leapt inside.

Six bullets tore through the air. Three of them grazed his arm, one tore a chunk of his hair out. The room was circular, medium-sized. A group of black-clad people stood in the middle, facing the door. He ran up the wall while they shot at him, the locomotive chugging of their guns muffled through his half-deaf ear. He threw one knife, two, three. Three combatants went down.

He came down off the wall and leapt into the fray, seizing a gun by the barrel, slicing through a throat. His face stared back at him from a dozen shiny, tinted visors. A gun came up and he ducked and someone else took the bullet, spattering him with blood. He cracked the butt of the gun he was holding back into its owner's face. He sliced through the shoulder strap, yanked the gun away, turned it on the others and held the trigger down. Bullets sprayed forth as he turned, ripping through the squad. He aimed for faces and necks, unarmored spots.

Something hit him in the back like a red-hot javelin. His right leg went numb. He crumpled, spinning himself to shoot at whatever was behind him. The barrel of a rifle stared back, cyclopean, dark and hollow and smoking. The black-gloved finger on the trigger started to pull back, creaking. He could see the horror on his own face reflected in the visor. The air was thick as water, and he was sinking towards the floor, drifting, impaled on the pain in his back—

Lalna hit his assailant like a train. The gun went off and pain struck along the side of Panda's head like a cat-scratch. There were more gunshots. He tried to scramble to his feet but he still couldn't feel his right leg, the pain in his back was overwhelming. Nano leapt over him and drove both heels into a visor with an ugly _crunch_. Someone screamed and was cut off.

Zylus dropped into Panda's field of view, pale and greenish.

"Where?" he demanded.

"My—my back," Panda gasped. "I can't—my leg, I can't feel my—"

"Thish ish going to hurt," Zylus said, and rolled him onto his stomach, and cursed violently. It did, as promised, hurt.

"Oh God," said Rythian, somewhere near the doorway.

"It clipped hish shpine, I think it'sh fixshable," Zylus said. "Thank God for full metal jacketsh. It went shtraight through."

Panda whimpered and buried his face in the thin carpet. Something pricked into the mass of pain in his lower back and set off a stinging cascade of muscle spasms.

"Hold shtill," Zylus said, keeping one hand on his hip. "I need two more. Nileshy." He snapped his fingers.

"You know you don't talk to _me_ like that, darling," Nilesy purred.

"I washn't," said Zylus. "Sherum, _now._ _"_

There was a momentary pause, then another stick of pain in his back, a third in his side near his right hip. Suddenly, like a stroke of lightning, all the feeling burst back into his leg. He yelped, twitching, as the whole limb filled up with pins and needles. The pain started to fade, leaving a dull ache and a gnawing exhaustion in its wake.

"Was anyone else injured?" Lalna asked nervously.

"I got winged," said Nano. "I think I'll be all right, we should save what we've got left."

"Try and get up," Zylus said to Panda. "If anything feelsh wrong, shtop."

Carefully, shaking, Panda got his hands and knees underneath him. His toes started tingling and he froze, terror clutching his heart.

"It'sh fine, jusht give it a shecond," said Zylus, gentle.

"Don't act like you care," Panda spat. He was trembling and he hated it.

Zylus hesitated, then took his hands off of Panda.

"Shorry," he said stiffly. "And, by the way, I fucking _told you sho."_

"Am I dead?" Panda demanded, glaring at him. "No. So fuck off."

It took a minute, but he managed to get back on his feet. He was a little dizzy, a little unsteady, and the exhaustion was weighing on him, but it was nowhere near as bad as half his low blood sugars had been. Lomadia was tying off some cloth around Nano's arm, where blood was seeping through her sleeve. Nilesy was leaned up against the wall outside, arms folded, looking bored. Lalna and Rythian were lingering in the doorway. Twelve bodies littered the floor of the room, reeking of blood. None of them appeared to be breathing.

"All right," Nano sighed, rubbing at her face. "Before we go _any_ further, can we _please_ agree not to do this again? No more dashing in with no backup and no plan? Because somebody's going to die."

"Yes, please," said Lomadia.

"I would—yes, I think that's a good idea," said Rythian.

"It is," Lalna confirmed.

Panda ducked his head and touched the sore spot on his back. There was wet blood there, tender new skin pulled taut over the recent wound.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Thank you," said Nano.

"Let's just go, all right?" he said, heading for the door. "The less standing about we do, the less I'll feel like speeding shit up."

"Are you okay to—" Rythian began, concerned.

"I'm fine," said Panda, brushing past him.

"But—it's just that—"

"I'm _fine,"_ Panda snarled. His voice cracked. He clenched his jaw, balled his fists, and continued onward. Behind him, he heard Rythian sigh.

They went down two more turns of the corkscrew before they ran out of corridor. It dead-ended with a door on the right, which was standing open and had light spilling out of it.

"Zylus?" Nano whispered, while they all hung back in deliberation.

"We're getting closhe," he said. "I'm shtarting to get . . . flickersh. Of the Board. They're shcared. That'sh about all I can tell you."

"And what's in this room?"

Zylus's face darkened.

"The alchemisht," he said.

Panda drew a slow, deep breath. His fingers found his knives, touching their warm and solid hilts. Nano hissed through her teeth, and Rythian drew closer to Lalna.

"If everyone's all right with it," Nano said, her voice only shaking a little, "I'd like to try and talk him down."

"Oh, best of luck," said Nilesy, amused.

"I'll do what I can to help you," Zylus said to Nano, ignoring him. "If you need it. But I'm shtaying invishible until you do need it."

"That is probably wise," Lalna said. "The optimal solution remains—"

"I'm not shooting anyone," Zylus snapped.

"Why not, darling?" Nilesy inquired. "Everyone else here is a murderer, join the fun, why don't you."

"Honestly," said Panda, rolling his eyes. "Why'd you even bring the fucking gun if you weren't going to shoot anybody?"

"I'm not shooting anyone _unlessh I have to,"_ he amended through gritted teeth.

"Yeah?" said Panda. "And what qualifies as _have to?"_

"When everybody elshe will die if I don't," said Zylus.

"Boys," Nano warned.

"Look, standing about talking is only making us more scared," Lomadia said. "Let's just go."

"Agreed," Panda said instantly.

"Nah, thought I might have a nap," Nilesy remarked, examining his fingernails.

"Lalna, what . . . and I might regret asking this, but what are the odds they _can,_ um, talk him down?" Rythian asked.

"I don't have nearly enough information to calculate that," said Lalna. Their eyes darted to one side, then the other, and then they bent their head and started ticking their thumbs together. They added sheepishly, "But based on previous encounters the odds are not good."

"I'm just going to stop asking," Rythian said.

With a final mustering of wills, they all started off down the last dozen meters of the corridor, creeping along like they expected the floor to collapse. Nano was in the lead and Zylus had turned invisible again. Lomadia, Rythian, and Lalna were bringing up the rear.

The door led into a relatively unremarkable room, circular, about twenty meters in diameter. It was done up in the same clinical white tile as the rest of the building, its only feature a door on the opposite side from the one they'd entered through.

Leaned up against the far wall was a white man, bald, dressed in all black. He had a long coat with a high collar, open at the front, and knee-high jackboots polished to a mirror shine. He was holding a slender, pen-like object, which emitted a gurgling hiss as he sucked on it. When they had all edged into the room, he took the thing out of his mouth and exhaled a massive cloud of vapor that shrouded his head for a moment before dissipating.

"Pyrion," Nano said distastefully.

"Nano," said Pyrion, his voice much higher and much more nasal than Panda had expected.

"You look like a supervillain," said Nano.

"Garion's still working his magic," said Pyrion. His eyes turned to Lalna and he gestured with his pen-thing. "Haven't seen one like _that_ in a while. How long've you been hiding it?"

" ~~Them~~ ," Lalna corrected, their voice buzzing with static.

Pyrion shrugged. He put his little pen between his teeth and sucked on it again. The hissing gurgle went on for about five seconds too long. Pyrion exhaled another cloud of white vapor and began twirling the pen between his fingers. Its black casing started to turn gold, flashing in the light.

"Sorry," he said. "Robots aren't people. Never have been, never will be. I can say that, now Xephos is dead."

Nano clenched her fists and her jaw and let out a slow breath through her nose.

"Pyrion," she said, "I'm going to give you the same choice I gave S—I gave Sips." Her voice barely shook.

"Which is?" Pyrion said laconically. The pen was almost completely gold now, although its shape and texture were unchanged.

"Move, or die," Nano said.

Pyrion snorted. "So Sips's dead, is he? Good. Now I won't have to listen to him whining about how much he misses his _boyfriend_ _."_

"You—" Nano began, and stopped herself. She took another deep breath. "Just . . . walk away, Pyrion. Just get out of the way."

"Sorry, but I've got a job to do," said Pyrion. "It's got benefits, like a salary."

"How can you _work_ for these people?" Nano demanded. "They want to wipe us off the face of the planet!"

"They pay _very_ well," said Pyrion. He stopped twirling the pen-thing and stuck it in his mouth. Nothing happened. He pulled it back out and glared at it, then stuck it in his pocket. He turned his gaze to Nano. "What can you offer me that's better?"

"Not contributing to the extermination of your people?" Nano suggested. "Not being _cured?"_

"They wouldn't cure me," said Pyrion. "I'm still useful. And I mean to stay that way, thanks."

"How about sterilized?" Nano said, gritting her teeth.

"Not an issue," said Pyrion, unconcerned. "One's plenty, I think."

Nano opened her mouth to retort when Zylus appeared suddenly, standing at the front of the group. Pyrion's eyebrows raised fractionally.

"And what _about_ Jen?" Zylus said. "What happensh to her?"

Pyrion said nothing. He looked Zylus up and down. His face had gone hard.

"She'sh due to shtart manifeshting shoon, ishn't she?" Zylus went on. "What do you think YogLabsh will do to her?"

 _"If_ the decision's made to cure her," Pyrion said, "I don't see an issue with it. She's spared the bullying and ostracizing of her peers and the oppression of . . . well, everyone else."

 _"Really,"_ Zylus said flatly. "Becaushe I know shomebody who'sh _loving father_ tried to cure him. I guessh you could shay he turned out fine, shomewhere underneath the disshosiative identity dishorder and the PT-Essh-D and the homishidal ideation. And the _shuishidal_ ideation. And the shelf-harm. And the hypershexual dishorder. And—"

"I get it," Pyrion said coldly.

Panda swallowed, very carefully not looking at Nilesy.

"Hish father, though," Zylus went on. "Hish _loving father_ ended up in shixshty-five shcrew-top glassh jarsh. Sho yesh, I'm sure Jen will turn out jusht fine. She might even kill you quickly, when she getsh around to it."

Pyrion stood still, watching Zylus much too closely for Panda's liking.

"What's your offer?" he asked again.

"A sheat on the new Board," Zylus said. "Onshe the old one'sh out of the way."

"Are you _serious?"_ Panda hissed. Zylus didn't even spare him a glance.

Pyrion narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin. He pushed off the wall and walked to the center of the room, his boots clicking on the tiled floor. Slowly, deliberately, he extended a hand.

"Shake on it," he said, never breaking eye-contact with Zylus.

For a moment, nobody moved. Everything hung in the air like colored glass, humming with low vibrations.

Zylus went for his gun. Pyrion dropped to one knee. His open palm slapped down on the floor. Twisting fractals of gold exploded out like cracks in ice. Nano leapt into flight with a cry. Panda grabbed Zylus by the collar and yanked him back. The gun went off. A patch of wall exploded. Panda's ears filled with ringing. Lalna shoved Rythian back out the door. The gold tide brushed at Panda's shoes and he darted away. He went to grab Lomadia when the flat tendrils lost all momentum and stopped.

"By your own rules," Pyrion said mildly. He now knelt at the base of a flat golden fan, the floor itself converted to tile-patterned metal. "Move, or die."

Panda leapt into action, dashing across the thirty feet of golden floor. It rang under his feet. He drew a knife and slashed at Pyrion's head in one smooth motion. Pyrion ducked and Panda skidded to a halt on the tile. He leapt at Pyrion's back and drove the knife backhanded between his shoulders. The blade struck something hard. The impact numbed his fingers, juddering all the way up to his elbow. Pyrion's hand shot out and his fingers brushed the hem of Panda's trousers. Panda leapt back. Cold metal touched his ankle.

Lomadia dropped onto Pyrion with claws flexed. He threw up an arm and her talons closed on it. Her wings beat furiously, silent. Panda zipped up and stabbed the back of Pyrion's neck, but again impacted something hard and unyielding underneath his coat. He saw the gleam of gold against Lomadia's talons.

 _"Lom, drop him!"_ he cried, panic seizing his heart. Lomadia cried out. A strong hand closed on Panda's wrist. He wrenched away, but not before all the skin on his wrist had gone numb. He darted back to the far wall. There was a golden handprint on his skin, fractal-edged. Lomadia yanked herself away from Pyrion, puffed up big and breathless with fear. One of her feet clanged every time it touched the ground.

Pyrion stood up and dusted himself off. There was a stripe of gold running down the forearm of his left sleeve. He spread his hands, his eyes for Nano alone.

"Come on," he said.

Panda darted in at him again, snarling. He slashed at the back of Pyrion's thigh. The heel of a boot struck him hard in the temple and he tumbled. He heard the slap of skin against tile and scrambled to his feet as another tide of gold swallowed the floor. He ran. A hiss like snowfall followed him. He tried to get along the wall but didn't have the momentum and ended up bouncing off near the door. He went for Pyrion again and stabbed him in the chest. The blade snapped. Pyrion grabbed him by the throat.

Nano's heels _cracked_ into the side of Pyrion's head. He went sprawling to the floor and Panda scrambled back, clutching his throat in terror. Pyrion swatted at Nano and she recoiled in the air, yanking her feet away from him.

Zylus appeared out of thin air with the gun pressed to the back of Pyrion's head.

"Don't. Move," he growled.

Everything went very still.

Panda put his back to the wall, panting. He could feel little flecks of gold on his throat, cold and numb.

"Shoot me, then," said Pyrion. His hands were raised. He was kneeling like a prisoner about to be executed.

Zylus's jaw clenched. His hand was shaking.

He pulled the trigger.

There was a _clink._ The gun bloomed with gold from the inside out. Pyrion whirled on his knees like a dancer and grabbed Zylus's arm. Panda cried out and dashed forward. Something hit Pyrion in the chest like a battering ram and slammed him against the far wall. He slapped a hand against the wall. Gold rushed out from his fingers. Panda changed direction and cannoned into Nilesy just before the gold reached him. The two of them went sprawling into the corridor. Rythian yelped and leapt out of the way. Cold metal pressed against the bottoms of Panda's feet, seeping through his shoes. He scrambled upright and drew his second-to-last knife.

Nano went for Pyrion again and again he swatted at her. He was back on his feet. She didn't dodge in time and a patch of her trousers turned gold. Lomadia was huddled against the wall, knees to her chest. Zylus had vanished again. Rythian was staring at the chaos wide-eyed and frozen.

"Rythian," Lalna said, taking him by the shoulders. "Gold is extremely conductive."

"What—" Rythian began. They kissed him. They turned and thundered across the room. They grabbed Pyrion in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground. With two backwards steps they came to stand on the golden floor.

"What the—" Pyrion cried, kicking his feet. His face went hard. "Poor planning."

He grabbed their forearms with both hands. Their eyes went dark. They began to topple over backwards. The gold exploded out across their arms, elbows, shoulders neck chest head—

They _clanged_ when they hit the ground. Pyrion thrashed wildly in their grasp. He wriggled loose, took a single step back.

Rythian stooped down and touched the golden floor.

There was a _bang_ so loud it made Panda's ears ring. Pyrion flew backwards and slammed into the wall, trailing smoke. He fell limp.

Rythian straightened up. Rythian walked over to him.

"Is he . . . dead?" Panda croaked, shivering in the corridor.

Rythian knelt next to Pyrion. He grabbed Pyrion's face with his bare hand.

Pyrion's body jerked and twitched on the floor. There was a horrible sizzling noise, the smell of burning cloth and flesh and hair. It went on for ten whole seconds before Rythian took his hand away. Pyrion continued twitching for another five.

"Now he is," Rythian said.

Zylus faded back in, tucking the golden gun into its holster. His hand was stiff, its motions clumsy. He was that pale green color he always got when someone had just died.

Rythian got up and moved back onto the white tile near Lalna's body. He knelt down and folded his hands in his lap. He took a slow, deep breath. He was shaking.

"Rythian. . . ." Lomadia began, and stopped herself. Smoke was rising from Pyrion's corpse. His face was a grotesque mask of charred blisters. The stench of burned flesh was thick and nauseating. Lalna lay perfectly still, gold and gleaming, frozen in that empty bear-hug.

"For those keeping count, that's three more syringes we've just lost," Nilesy said brightly, picking himself up.

In unison, Nano and Zylus and Panda all snarled, _"Shut up!"_

Nilesy raised his hands, rolling his eyes, and picked his way across the room like it was a game of hopscotch. "Whenever you're done," he said. He prodded the door with one finger and it swung inward. Blue smoke was trailing from the electronic lock, the edge of which was limned with gold.

Carefully, settling her feet back on the floor, Nano approached Lomadia.

"Sweetheart?" she said.

"I can't feel my foot," Lomadia said. She stretched her feet out. All of her claws had turned gold. The tip of one of them was bent. Her left foot had a gold patina on the underside.

"Oh, shit," said Nano, kneeling down in front of her. "That—that's not good."

Panda looked down at his own wrist. The cold metal was pinching and puckering the edges of his skin. The seams had started to swell, redden, and itch.

"I'm not sure the serum can fix this," he said softly, feeling sick.

Zylus came up to Lomadia and knelt next to Nano. Panda snuck over, as well. He could see, now, that Zylus's left palm was sheened with gold, freezing his hand in the shape of the pistol grip.

"Not right now," said Zylus. "When it wearsh off, maybe. The tissuesh won't shurvive, but I don't think the damage ish too exshtenshive to be repaired." He looked up at Lomadia, his face drawn with concern. "Doesh it hurt?"

She shook her head, sniffling. "I can't feel it at all."

Nano touched her shin, carefully. "It'll be all right, sweetheart. I've—I've still got all my serum, and you've got both of yours, and I think Nilesy's still got one, so we—we should be okay."

"Panda?" Zylus said, looking up at him.

"I'm—fine, yeah," said Panda, rubbing the thin golden film on his wrist. Whenever he swallowed or spoke, he could feel the cold pinpricks on his throat, golden stars embedded in his skin.

"Ash long ash we can keep fighting," said Zylus. He got to his feet.

"Sweetheart?" Nano asked, extending a hand.

With one more sniffle, Lomadia took her hand. They helped each other to their feet. Nano kissed her cheek, then looked over her shoulder at Rythian.

He hadn't moved, hadn't so much as shifted his gaze. He was still shivering. His breathing was deep and deliberate.

Tip-toeing around the fractal edges of the golden floor, Nano approached him.

"Rythian," she said. "It's . . . we have to keep moving."

"No," he said.

"We can't stay here," Nano insisted. "The Board's still down there, and—they might have another exit. Who knows what else they might throw at us. They could blow up the whole building. We have to _go,_ Rythian."

 _"No,"_ he repeated. His gaze was fixed on Lalna.

Nano reached out to him, hesitated.

"They'll still be here," she said. "We can . . . on our way out, we can come back for them, if—"

"I'm _not leaving them!"_ Rythian cried, his voice cracked and dripping with pain. His eyes were full of tears. "I am _not_ leaving them again!"

Nano recoiled, drawing a slow breath. Her face pinched up, and she bit her lip.

"All right," she said. "All right. I—for whatever it's worth, it'll—it'll wear off. In a few minutes. They'll—they should be all right, Rythian."

The smell of burned wiring was starting to fill the room. Thin trails of blue smoke were still curling out from the far door.

Rythian swallowed and took a slow, mucousy breath through his nose. His hands were clenched white-knuckled in his lap.

"We'll catch up with you," he said softly.

"No," said Zylus.

 _"No?"_ said Panda.

"Ash shoon ash Lalna can move, both of you should get out of here," Zylus said. "The lasht thing we want ish YogLabsh getting hold of them again."

"What if . . . what if they _can't_ move?" Lomadia asked.

"Then I find a way to carry them," Rythian vowed.

"Okay," said Nano, helplessly. "Okay. We'll—see you later. Rythian. Take care."

"I will," he whispered.

After a moment's pause, Nano moved to the door, which Nilesy gallantly held open for her. Lomadia followed, limping heavily, her footsteps making _cling-clang_ noises on the floor. Zylus went after her, eyes down, jaw clenched.

Panda hesitated. He came over to Rythian and knelt next to him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everything."

Rythian said nothing. A pair of tears slid down his cheeks and skated around the edge of his mask.

Panda hugged him, hopped to his feet, and scurried out.

The corridor beyond was dim, carpeted. There were doors to either side, art on the walls. It was far less clinical than the rest of the facility had been. Potted plants dotted alcoves along the way. At the far end was a heavy steel door, shut. Panda caught up with the others and slowed to a walk.

Nano reached the steel door and stopped, her arms wrapped around her own waist. She was bloodless, waxen, her eyes rimmed in red.

"We just killed a little girl's father," she whispered.

"Must be her lucky day," Nilesy said brightly.

"How the _fuck_ are you so _flippant_ about this?" Nano snarled, rounding on him. There were tears in her eyes. "How can you be so—so _callous?"_

"Because that's what I'm _for,_ darling," Nilesy said, not unkindly. "Nothing hurts if you don't care."

Just for a moment, just for a fluorescent, pallid instant, the light around him changed and Panda saw, not a cruel and capricious monster, but a hollow shell so flimsy and bleak that it was collapsing under its own weight.

Nilesy turned on that brilliant, starry smile of his, and the vision passed, all the dotted lines buried beneath the glitter.

"Besides, I'm _delighted_ to see we're all hopping on the murder train today," he said. "Gives me all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings."

"Why didn't _you_ just kill him, if you're so—so—whatever the fuck you are?" Nano demanded.

"Because I couldn't," Nilesy said simply, shrugging. "Nearest water was behind six feet of solid rock. And, ahah, blood doesn't listen well. Not to me. Tried my best, but sometimes it just doesn't work out. Why didn't Panda stab him in the head instead of the knife-proof clothes? Why didn't Zylus shoot him from across the room? Why didn't Lom rip his fucking head off, or Lalna snap his neck?"

"Shtop there," Zylus said.

"I know why _you_ didn't kill him," Nilesy went on anyway. _"You_ didn't kill him because you thought that little girl was better off with her father alive. Trust me, darling. _It's her lucky day."_

Nano glared at him, her jaw clenched, then turned to the door. She yanked on the handle. It didn't budge.

"Oh, that's just—" Panda began.

Nano pressed both hands to the metal. It started to fizz and smoke. As Panda watched, her acid ate right through the steel, dripping rust-red foam onto the carpet. She burned through the entire thickness of the door and reached into the hole. There was a _click._

She yanked the door open.

"Fuck _everything_ about this," she said, and stormed down the stairwell beyond.


	44. Chapter 43

They went down two flights of stairs and encountered a second door. This one was made of thick teak, and had a large deadbolt instead of an electronic lock. Nano gathered her rage and put it away, for the moment. There was a time and a place, and this was neither.

"Zylus?" she said, keeping her voice down. "What's on the other side of this?"

He moved up to the door and leaned his head against it, eyes closed.

"Turpsh," he said. "And the Board, a little farther on. They're not in the room with him."

"Are we burning through this one, too?" Panda asked. He'd started to jitter again.

"I don't think that'll work very well," Nano said, examining the smooth, hardy wood. She ran her finger down it, pushing a little Power through her skin. Not much happened, except the deposition of a snail-like trail of slime. "It's coated in something"

"Is it locked?" Lomadia asked.

"Of course it's—" Nano began, and stopped. She put her eye down by the deadbolt, peering into the thin crack between the door and the frame. The light came through in a smooth, uninterrupted line. She straightened back up. "It is not, actually, locked."

"Okay, so let's go, what're we waiting for?" Panda demanded.

Nano looked at Zylus. He shrugged. She looked at Nilesy, who was leaned up against the wall examining his fingernails.

"Nilesy?" she said.

He waved a hand at her. "Go on, I'll come after."

"Are we done with the _asking them to move_ bullshit?" Panda asked.

"I—well," said Nano. "I _would_ say yes, but it's Turps, and. . . ."

"And he hash a passhive charishmatic aura," said Zylus, "sho giving him any room to talk might be a bad idea."

"Well," said Nano. "It doesn't work on me anymore. But—yeah, probably a good idea to just . . . get it over with."

"So no talking, gotcha," said Panda. "C'mon, open the door, let's _do_ this already!"

"I wish you weren't so fucking gung-ho for murder," Nano said.

"Yeah, well, I'm sick of playing fair with people who're going to kill us, no matter _how_ nice they seem. Can we _go?"_

Zylus touched Nano's shoulder. She moved out of the way. Zylus grabbed the door handle and glanced back at Panda, who was vibrating in place.

"You know," Nilesy mused, his eyebrows pulling together ever so slightly. "I wonder what the range—"

Zylus yanked open the door.

The room was smallish, square. There was a wooden table with five chairs. Turps was sitting in one of them, both hands already raised in surrender.

"I'm on your side!" he blurted.

Panda stopped two feet into the room, narrowed his eye, and did not put his knives away.

"Like hell you are," Nano said, without venom.

"No no! I am, hahah, no I absolutely am," said Turps, nodding encouragingly. His mouth was smiling beneath his immaculately trimmed beard, his watery blue eyes bright and sincere. "You know me! Coward to the last. And I'll tell you, you're a lot scarier than the people in the next room, hahah!"

"Good, so go away," said Lomadia, starting forward.

"Wait! Wait. Hahah. Two minutes," he said, holding up two fingers and looking from person to person. "Two minutes. To explain myself! Then you can all do whatever it is you do to our lovely Board. Just two minutes, all I'm asking."

Lomadia scowled.

"If you scream, I'll rip your head off," she asserted.

"Oh, Lom, quit," said Nano, rolling her eyes. "He's a coward, not an idiot."

"That's right, that's right!" said Turps. "All right, everybody, come sit down, we'll have a chat. Just a quick little chat, just to get all the details ironed out."

"Details of _what?"_ said Lomadia.

Nilesy had already drifted into the room and sat down, and Zylus followed soon after. Both of them had a somewhat dazed look, although Zylus's eye kept twitching.

"Of—just details, sweetheart, there's always details," said Nano.

"We'll handle it, Lom," Panda promised. He put his knives away and sat next to Zylus. He started jigging his leg like a bored high schooler. Nano took the chair next to him, folding her hands in her lap. Turps smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up.

Lomadia growled, but eventually went to stand behind Nano.

"Fantastic!" said Turps. "Now, in terms of details, I'm sure you all know how difficult it is to get a job round here, especially being Powered. It's practically YogLabs or nothing, innit?"

"Not really," said Zylus, frowning.

"Yes, but you pretend to be a normie, darling," Nilesy said. "That's the only way it works, is if you hide it."

"Exactly!" said Turps. "So you'll understand, of course, why I can't just _quit my job_ and go flouncing off to find another one. It's not right, having to hide your Powers, really, is it?"

"I'd think _you_ could get a job just about anywhere," said Nano. "What with your—your thing."

"What thing?" said Lomadia.

"Well, yes, but we're not _talking_ about me, are we?" said Turps.

"Yes we are," said Lomadia. "Aren't we? We were talking about him."

"No no, no, hahah, no, you must be a bit confused," he said. "It's all right, don't blame the bird brain for not quite grasping the situation."

Panda laughed. "Bird brain, that's good."

"You're being really mean," said Lomadia.

"They don't mean anything by it, sweetheart, just ignore them," said Nano. She reached back and patted Lomadia's arm. She'd forgotten, really, how _funny_ Turps was. She'd rather missed being around him.

"Really, though, we're talking about all of you," said Turps. "Though—hmm, now isn't that odd, you seem to be missing a couple. . . ?"

"They're back upstairs," said Nilesy, gesturing. "Hanging about until Lalna comes ungilded."

Turps's smile got somewhat thin. "Ah. Pyrion's ah . . . Pyrion's out of the picture, is he?"

"Oh, very," said Nilesy.

"Well!" said Turps, rubbing his hands together. "Good! All for the best. More room at the top, as they say, hahah."

"Plenty of room," Zylus agreed. A trickle of blood slid out of his nose and he wiped it away absently.

"At any rate, we're getting off-topic. We were talking about your surrender, I think!"

"No we _weren't,"_ said Lomadia.

"I think we were, actually," said Panda. "That _sounds_ right, anyway."

"It's not," said Lomadia. "He's saying wrong stuff. He's saying all the wrong stuff, it's just—it just sounds right because he's saying it right."

"Is she always this confused?" Turps asked.

"Generally," said Panda, his nose wrinkling.

"I'm not confused!" Lomadia said. "He's saying the _wrong things!"_

"Now now, hahah, calm down, calm down," said Turps, holding up his hands. "Look, I've even brought along—hang on a second, let me get it—"

He reached under the table and pulled out a small rifle, held up a handful of pink-feathered darts.

"There we are! To make the transfer easier. I'm sure you'd all like an easy transfer, wouldn't you? Cuts down on the tasing later, doesn't it?"

"That was my least favorite bit," Nilesy said. "I'd love to—"

Some kind of spasm wracked him and he half leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. Zylus caught him by the arm, wincing.

"Vee, shtay, _shtay,"_ he murmured, pulling him back down. "Take it eashy."

"I—he—" Nilesy gasped, shaking his head.

"Settle down there," Turps said. His face was shiny with sweat, his eyes flicking left and right. He loaded one of the darts into the gun. "Won't take long, hahah."

"Shorry about him," Zylus said, making a face. "Hish other pershonalitiesh are trying to get looshe."

"Oof, well, can't have that!" said Turps. "Why don't we help him calm down a bit with some good old-fashioned tranquilizers? Won't that be nice?"

"No," Lomadia said. Her wings fluffed out, stirring the air. "No, you're not putting stuff in us. You're not sending us back to YogLabs. You're _still_ saying all the wrong things. It doesn't matter how good it sounds, because it's all wrong. Put that thing down right now."

"Aw, come on, you're awfully stubborn, aren't you!" Turps said. His lip was curling under his beard. "Here, why don't I do you first, and then everybody else? Might take a bit extra, since you're so big, with those great big wings of yours."

He pointed the gun at Lomadia. Nano frowned, sensing something _off_ about the situation but unable to put her finger on it.

"Well—hang on a second, Turps," she said. "I'm not sure all this is really necessary."

"No, it's definitely necessary!" Turps sang. "Here, I'll just—"

Lomadia lunged across the table and yanked the gun out of his hand. He let out a sharp exclamation and leapt out of his chair.

"I said _no,"_ said Lomadia. She ripped the dart back out of the gun and threw both of them on the floor. Her claws closed on the gun and there was an awful screech of bending metal.

"That's a _bit_ extreme, Lom," Panda said.

"Is—is it?" Nilesy said. "I'm not so sure it—"

Turps sucked in a huge breath and _shouted._

The sound hit Nano like a punch to the chest, knocking her back out of her chair. Her ears rang, and she was too dizzy to get back on her feet properly. Lomadia was on the ground, clutching her ears. Turps made a fist around one of the darts and stormed forward.

"Hard way, then!" he said, his voice muffled through the cotton in Nano's ears.

With a snarl, Lomadia leapt upon him. She bowled him to the ground, one foot on his chest, one clutching around his head. He raised his fist to stab her in the leg. Blood spurted from beneath her claws. He screamed.

There was a wet, prolonged _ripping_ noise as she tore his head from his body in a fire-hose spray of blood.

_"I told you not to scream!"_ she shouted.

The warm feeling that had invaded Nano's body drained away rapidly. She stared at Turps's corpse, at the blood and the tranquilizer darts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zylus struggling not to throw up.

"Oh, _God,"_ Nano whispered. The ringing in her ears had not gone yet, and her own voice sounded odd beneath it. Gathering her scattered wits, she got to her feet and tottered over to Lomadia.

The carpet was squishy with blood. Lomadia didn't respond when Nano called her name, startled when Nano touched her arm.

"She can't hear," Zylus said, coming up to Nano's elbow. "She should shtill have two shyringesh, we'll hope that'sh enough."

"Sweetheart?" Nano said, taking Lomadia's face in her hands. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Can you get your syringes?" She mimed giving herself an injection in her arm.

Lomadia, pale and trembling, nodded. She rooted around in her own pockets and brought out her two syringes of serum, thankfully intact.

"Okay," said Nano. "Let's move away from here, all right? Come on, over here. . . ."

She led Lomadia to a less bloody corner of the room and had her kneel on the floor. She brushed Lomadia's hair back and gave the two injections near the fronts of her ears.

"There we go, that's it, it's done," said Nano. "Tell me you can hear me, sweetheart. Come on, please have worked, please have worked. . . ."

Lomadia flinched suddenly and clapped her hands over her ears. Nano dropped to her knees next to her, putting her hands on Lomadia's shoulders.

"There, okay, good, that seems—that seems good," she said. "You're okay, sweetheart, you're fine, you're fine. . . ."

"It really hurt," Lomadia mumbled, her eyes squeezed shut. "He said all the wrong things and nobody would listen to me and I knew it was wrong and I—and I—"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, Lom, I'm so sorry," Nano said. A sickness crept up into her stomach as she replayed the conversation over in her head. She shuddered, swallowing down revulsion. "We said awful things about you and I'm _so sorry."_

"Vee," Zylus was saying, somewhere behind her. "The gold'sh worn off. Can I have your lasht shyringe sho I can ushe my left hand again?"

"If you must, darling," Nilesy sighed.

"How—how many've we got left, now?" Panda asked. "Because I might want one for my wrist. And Lom might need one for her foot, and everything. . . ."

"I've got all three of mine," said Nano. "Panda, if you want to run up and get Lalna's three, we could probably use them. If we've un-golded, they must be . . . un-golded by now."

Panda fidgeted. "I'm . . . I mean, do we know it'd even still work? After being . . . golded? Should we even try? Not that—it's not that I—"

"The Board'sh within . . . probably thirty feet of ush," Zylus said. He was opening and closing his left hand, slowly, carefully, as the serum worked its way through. "And the sherum that'sh with Lalna ish pretty shafe. If we need it, we can go get it. Ash far ash I can tell, Rythian'sh got them up and headed out, but Panda should be able to catch up with them even if they make it all the way out of the bunker."

"I guess that'd be Lal's partial reboot, then," said Nano, uncomfortable. She had half a mind to run back upstairs and check, just in case Zylus wasn't on the level. Zylus shot a look at her that very clearly communicated his exasperation with that particular reasoning.

"My foot's not that bad, really," Lomadia said. She managed to flex her claws. There was some saggy, grayish skin on the bottom of her foot, but she could at least still move it.

"Okay," Nano sighed. She got carefully to her feet, helping Lomadia up as she did so. "Okay. So. We've got no idea what's waiting for us in there. We haven't got Lalna or Rythian. We're down to six, maybe only three doses of serum and . . . and fuck-all else, I s'pose."

"So . . . the plan would be. . . ?" Panda prompted, fidgeting.

She shrugged. "We find the door and get it open, you run in and slit as many throats as you can? If Nilesy can help with any of them, great. If Zylus can manage to shoot anybody, great. If Lom can get in the door quick enough to—to get to anybody, great. We go in fast, we don't hesitate for _anything,_ and we get this done."

"Zy, are they—can you tell if they've got anything waiting for us?" Panda asked.

"Not that they're thinking about right now," said Zylus.

"Great," said Panda, rolling his eyes. "Well. Let's do this. Secret door?"

"Give me minute," said Zylus.

He went to the nearest wall and laid his hand against it, then shut his eyes. He began a slow circuit of the room, running his hand along the wall. He paused every so often, touching the side of his head to the wall like he was listening. When he'd gotten back around to the main door, he went back the other way. He stopped near the center of the righthand wall and opened his eyes.

"Shomewhere around here," he muttered, feeling the wall with his fingertips. Lomadia crept over and peered over his shoulder.

"What're we looking for?" she asked.

"Sheamsh," said Zylus. "Panelsh. There'sh a door behind here shomewhere."

"There," said Lomadia, pointing to a patch of wall that was identical to every other patch around it. Zylus put his face so close to it his nose nearly touched it, squinting.

"I don't—" he said.

Lomadia moved him aside gently and dug her fingernails into the wall. She tugged at it for a moment before it suddenly gave way. There was a _click,_ and a panel slid back, revealing a Teflon-coated door with a thumbprint scanner embedded in it.

"There," said Lomadia.

"Nice," said Panda, impressed. "So . . . how do we get in?"

Nano looked at Turps's corpse. She looked at the thumbprint scanner.

"I've got a horrible idea," she said.

"Not it!" Panda called, pressing a finger to the tip of his own nose.

"I'm not going to make anybody else do it," Nano said. She steeled herself and approached the body. It was still leaking blood. She clenched her jaw and held her breath so she wouldn't have to smell it anymore.

Just as she bent down to grab Turps's wrist, Zylus stepped up and grabbed the opposite arm.

"He looksh heavy," he said.

Nano nodded to him, and together they heaved up the corpse and dragged it to the door. Nano managed not to get much blood on her, although a considerable amount spattered on Zylus's trousers. They dropped the body next to the door. Nano took a deep breath.

"So—this is it," she said. "They're . . . right on the other side of the door, are they?"

"Pretty much," said Zylus.

Nano looked around at everyone—Panda, bouncing on his toes with a knife in each hand; Zylus, his face waxen and hard; Nilesy, unsmiling and intent; Lomadia, shifting her weight from foot to foot, gently fanning her wings, clearing her ears out with her pinkies. Nano took a deep breath.

"Okay," she said. "Let's—let's do this."

Zylus moved out of the way of the door and turned invisible. Panda sank into a starter's crouch. Nano picked up Turps's cooling wrist, folded his limp and clammy hand into a thumbs-up, and pressed the pad of his thumb on the scanner.

The door clicked. Something yanked it open. Panda dashed in, blurred. A scream, a splatter. Lomadia leapt through the door. A gunshot, a _crack._ Nilesy followed her in. The Director's brash voice, yelling _Oy!_ Splintering rock, the roar of water. Nano jumped over the body and darted inside.

Then quiet.

The room was small, bland. Everything was concrete. There were no exits, no furniture, no windows. Water was gushing from a burst pipe in the wall. Blood spattered the floor, the ceiling, the walls, mingling with the water as it pooled.

Five bodies lay on the floor. She recognized Marcus Hulmes. He was pale, his face frozen in a rictus of terror, eyes wide and mouth agape. His throat had been slit wide open, and the spray of his own blood surrounded him. There was a gun in the water near him. There was a bullet hole in the opposite wall.

There was Steven Ridge, head of Medical, his chest ripped open by Lomadia's claws. Kirin, who she'd met once while being fitted for a new combat suit—the back of his head bashed open, his body slumped beneath a wide splat of blood and brain matter.

Panda was standing over another, who Nano didn't recognize—long hair, pale skin, slit throat, blood drenching their blue and white shirt. Panda was panting, looking around bemusedly. Lomadia had backed away from Ridge's body, the gushing water washing the blood off her claws.

The Director lay dead at Nilesy's feet. His head was at an unnatural angle. There were cookie crumbs in his beard. The plastic packaging was still held in his limp hand.

Zylus reappeared in the doorway. He took two steps in and stopped.

"Is that . . . it?" Nano said, her voice quiet and shaking. A sickness was bubbling in her stomach.

"They're dead," said Zylus, hoarse.

For a while, there was only the gushing of the water. It wasn't up to Nano's ankles yet, but it was flooding out into the rest of the basement.

"So we just . . . go home now?" Lomadia said. She sounded small, frightened. "We're done?"

"I guess?" Panda said. He shied away from the bodies, fiddling with his knives. "It seems . . . too easy."

"They didn't even fight," said Lomadia.

Nano looked around at the bodies. None of them moved, except for the blood that continued to leak from their gaping wounds. Her eyes kept straying back to the Director, to the crumbs in his beard, to the white shock on his face, to the cookies in his hand.

"What the fuck are we _doing?"_ she whispered, with slow-dawning horror. "What the fuck are we _doing_ here? We just—we just _murdered five people!_ We're standing a building full of fucking _dead people,_ what—what—"

"Nano, shtop," Zylus said, taking her by the shoulder and turning her away from the corpses. "Do thish later. We did what we came to do. It'sh time to get out."

"But—" she said.

"He's right," said Panda. "We . . . we did it. I guess."

There was another moment of silence. The tiny concrete room was cold, the water was cold, Zylus's hand on her shoulder was cold. She wrapped her arms around her own waist.

"I guess we go home," she said.

One by one, they filed out—Zylus, Panda, Lomadia. Nano headed for the door, then turned back.

Nilesy was still standing there, staring down at the Director. The lines on his face were heavy, the bags under his eyes were dark.

"Nilesy?" Nano said.

He knelt next to the body and, with his thumb and forefinger, closed its staring eyes.

"Sorry, Uncle Simon," he whispered.

He got to his feet and sloshed to the door. He did not look at Nano as he went past.

She took one last glance at the room, at the bodies. They were still just as dead, just as motionless, sodden with gushing water and spilled blood.

She turned her back and walked out. She let the door fall closed behind her.

* * *

 

They trudged all the way back through the bunker in silence; past Pyrion's body, the room now back to its white-tiled uniformity, although Rythian and Lalna were gone. She couldn't let herself worry about that now. There was no room in her for feeling. If she allowed herself to feel anything, all the horror and the guilt and the fear would overwhelm her. She soldiered on, past the dead squadron in the room off of the corkscrew corridor, past the quiescent remains of Sips, through the last blood-spattered corridor and all the bodies inside.

It was raining as they emerged, a thin drizzle that dripped down off the trees in freezing dollops. Nano followed Lomadia out, eyes fixed on her clawed feet as she limped along. There was still blood caught in the yellow scales, still an odd bend in the tip of one of her talons. The ground underfoot was wet and slimy. Panda shuffled along with his head down. Nilesy was still expressionless and silent.

Nano glanced back. Zylus had stopped only a few feet out of the door, eyes lowered, fists clenched.

"Zylus?" she said, coming to a stop, apprehensive. The others slowed and stopped as well, looking back.

"I can't go with you," he said quietly.

"What?" Nano said, fear rising up the back of her throat like bile.

"What d'you _mean,_ you can't go with us?" Panda demanded. His hand was straying to the knife in his belt.

"I mean thish ish . . . where we part waysh," Zylus said. "For good. I can't go with you."

"Why _not?"_ said Panda.

Zylus drew a deep breath, as though to speak.

"Because he has, mhm, mhm, other obligations to fulfill."

Two figures emerged from the woods on either side of the bunker, bald, aging, beady-eyed. They were wearing immaculate labcoats. Their hands were clasped behind their backs. Zylus shut his eyes and bowed his head, as though he was being scolded.

_"You two?"_ Nano said, gawping, her voice a hoarse croak of disbelief.

Gozencrantz smiled at her. Ruildenstern inclined their head.

"Indeed," said Ruildenstern.

"Our apologies for not keeping in contact," said Gozencrantz.

"We had, hmm, bigger fish," said Ruildenstern.

Both of them turned their eyes to Zylus. Ruildenstern raised an eyebrow. The corner of Gozencrantz's mouth quirked up. They both looked back to the rest of the group.

"We do appreciate all that you've done," said Gozencrantz.

"You were, hmm, instrumental in the removal of the old Board," said Ruildenstern.

"Alas, your usefulness has, mhm, mhm, come to an end."

"Mr. Lucas's, however, has not."

"You set us _up,"_ Panda breathed. "You _son of a bitch!"_

He blurred. Zylus looked up in terror. The gun went flying. There was a rapid, wet _thudding_ noise. Blood left red trails in the air. Zylus crumpled. Panda dashed for Ruildenstern. His face was spattered with blood, his teeth bared in a snarl.

His feet went out from under him and he slid ten feet across the slick ground. He came to rest at Ruildenstern's feet, unmoving. They spared him barely half a glance, then turned to look at Zylus.

Blood was pouring from his chest. It had soaked his shirt already. He was gasping, twitching. Ruildenstern and Gozencrantz looked at each other.

"Unfortunate," said Gozencrantz.

Nano loosed a cry and flung herself at them. There was a soft, _snipping_ feeling at the back of her skull, and her whole body went numb. She collapsed in a heap. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't even control her own breathing. Her eyes stared, frozen, at Ruildenstern.

"And he was so promising," they said to Gozencrantz, without missing a beat.

"You—" Lomadia cried, and there was a quiet and complex thump, and the ground shuddered just a little. She didn't say anything else.

"Still, our efforts were not, mhm, mhm, entirely wasted," said Gozencrantz.

Another body fell. It must have been Nilesy's. Nano managed to shift her gaze a couple of inches, but not enough to see anyone else. Panda was still lying at Ruildenstern's feet, breathing slowly and steadily, like he was sleeping.

"Oh, hardly," said Ruildenstern. "This will be, hmm, an auspicious start to our tenure on the Administrative Board."

"Killing the killers?"

"I doubt our agreement still holds."

"Since he _is_ dead."

"Or nearly."

"Near enough, Robin."

"Would you like to do the honors, Gray, or shall I?"

_"Neither_ of you . . . are killing _anyone,"_ Nilesy said, a manic tension in his voice.

Ruildenstern looked up, frowning, and then their face broke into the widest smile Nano had ever seen them wear.

"Ah," said Gozencrantz. "So _that's_ what's behind the curtain."

"Fascinating," said Ruildenstern.

"Glad you find me so—" Nilesy said. He cut off suddenly, and Nano heard him fall again, close by. She managed to turn her eyes, by slow degrees, to see him. He was lying face-down on the ground, shivering, paralyzed.

"Useless," said Gozencrantz.

"Inevitably," said Ruildenstern. "It does present one problem."

"Ah yes," said Gozencrantz. "Which name to put on the tombstone."

"Verigan Peculier?"

"Nilesy MacKay?"

"I doubt it matters."

_Get up,_ Nano willed him, willed herself, turning her eyes back to Ruildenstern, then to Gozencrantz. _Get up, get up, get up. . . ._

"Perhaps not."

"Perhaps a tombstone is, hmm, unnecessary."

"One would think so."

"Still, a curious question. Verigan or Nilesy?"

"Both."

"Either."

"My name is Liam," Nilesy whispered. There was not a trace of Scottish in his voice, and the precision of his consonants rattled with echoes of Xephos. Nano turned her eyes back to him, even as Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern did the same.

"Oh, dear, yet another?" Ruildenstern inquired.

"I believe we've encountered this one," said Gozencrantz.

"Ah, yes, at the old meeting place."

"He was, mhm, an _exceptional_ dish boy."

"My _name,"_ Nilesy said, getting to his feet and balling his fists, "is _Liam."_

"One does wonder how many more are, hmm, waiting in the wings," said Ruildenstern.

"There's certainly an easy way to find out," said Gozencrantz.

"My name is _Liam Anthony_ _Xephos_ _,_ and there's enough people in my head already!" Nilesy— _Liam—_ cried, and his arm flew up and there was a blank white rage on his face, a vicious purpose to the movement.

"That can be remedied," Gozencrantz said calmly.

Liam froze. His eyes went wide, and his jaw clenched, and the fingers of his outstretched hand locked up.

"That's . . . not. . . ." he said, his eyes fixed on Gozencrantz.

"It's entirely possible," said Ruildenstern.

"You can't," said Liam.

"Why not?" Gozencrantz inquired. "I understand you don't like any of them. Nor, mhm, do they like _you."_

"Wouldn't you like to be whole again, Liam?" Ruildenstern asked.

"A full person?" said Gozencrantz. "Not, hmm, shattered into convenient bits?"

"Unruined?"

"Unbroken?"

"Unburied?"

Liam stood there, his eyes flicking between them, his face pale and his lips tight. His breath was coming short and quick, his upraised arm shaking.

"It's very simple, Liam," said Gozencrantz. "Provided, of course, you don't kill us, mhm, mhm."

Liam's hand lowered half a degree, his expression sliding from anger to suspicion.

"You can't," he said again. "I need them."

"For what?" Ruildenstern inquired. "You're clearly capable of handling things on your own."

"Once the chaff has been cleared away," said Gozencrantz.

"It's a simple matter to, hmm, reattach the severed limbs," said Ruildenstern.

Liam's hand slid down still further.

"How?" he asked, his voice shaking. The doctors' faces pulled into tight little smiles.

_No!_ Nano tried to scream at him, but her lips would not part, her body would not move. The doctors were stalling for time, waiting for _something._ She glanced at Zylus—

At the broad and bloody drag-mark on the ground where Zylus _had been—_

Followed the arc across the dirt, saw him lying on the ground, sighting down the barrel of the discarded gun while Gozencrantz talked, blood drenching his shirt and his trousers and his hands—

Tried to scream again as Liam let his hand fall back to his side—

And with a deafening _BANG_ and a firework of blood and bone, Gozencrantz's head exploded.

Time slowed to a crawl. Liam shrieked and staggered back, clapping a hand over his mouth. The body slid to the ground, limp. Ruildenstern looked over at it, horror peeling the skin back from their teeth and eyes, and they _screamed_ like the sky was falling.

There was another _BANG,_ muffled under the ringing in Nano's ears. Ruildenstern spun where they stood, blood spraying from their chest, and then fell. A bloody rose bloomed on their lab coat, soaking their shirt in seconds. They did not move again.

With a dull thump, the gun fell from Zylus's hands, and he slumped back on the ground, whimpering and clutching weakly at his chest and stomach.

Nano's body moved without her consent, driving her up and hurling her past Liam, who was still standing there with a look of horror frozen on his face while blood soaked the ground beneath the two doctors. Her knees dropped her at Zylus's side, her arms scooped him up. He was white as death, shuddering and gasping, his eyes open and unfocused.

"All real," he sputtered, blood flecking his words. "Nileshy. Tell—tell Nileshy—all real—all—I'm shorry, I'm sh-shorry, I—"

"Shh, no no no, it's okay, you're going to be okay," Nano said, while his blood soaked into her trousers and tears slid down her cheeks. "Hang on, hang on Zylus, we'll—you'll—"

His hand reached up clumsily, blindly, clutched her shirt in bloodsoaked fingers.

"I'm—shorry," he whispered, and his eyes went glassy and his body started seizing with violent tremors as shock set in, rattling him like an earthquake.

"Call an ambulance!" Nano yelled, dropping him on the ground and ripping off her jacket. She dug into its pockets, fumbling for the last three syringes of serum. She glared over her shoulder, trying not to throw up. "Somebody call a fucking ambulance!"

"Okay," Lomadia said, her voice quiet and tremulous. "Um, okay, I'll. . . ." She fumbled in her pockets for her phone.

Nano turned her eyes back to Zylus and steeled herself. He was still seizing, more weakly now, pale and bloody and barely breathing. Lomadia started speaking, her voice tremulous, the words jumbled. Nano ripped the cap off the first syringe with her teeth, put a knee on Zylus's shoulder to hold him still. She picked the stab wound closest to his heart, where blood was pouring out. She bit her tongue to keep from throwing up and dug her fingers into the wound, pried it open, and jammed the syringe as far down into it as she could. She depressed the plunger and yanked the syringe back out. Her hands were drenched in his blood. She repeated the process in two wounds nearest his lungs. The seizures were tapering off. She balled up her jacket and pressed it hard into his abdomen, squeezing a fresh wash of blood from him like he was a wet dish sponge.

"Niles?" Panda whispered. "Nilesy? I—I didn't—I swear I—what—what do we do? He—I—"

There was a moment of silence, of stillness.

"Far as I'm concerned, darling," Nilesy said sweetly, his accent firmly back in place, "you can both go to hell together."

There were quiet, fading footsteps. Nano clenched her jaw and bowed her head and locked her elbows, pressing hard on Zylus's abdomen.

"Hang on, Zylus," she whispered. "Please, God, hang on. . . ."


	45. Chapter 44

_At some point the drinking had stopped being a hobby and had started being a coping mechanism._

_"We need the murderer," Gozencrantz had told him, nearly six months ago now. "And you, mhm, are going to get him back for us."_

_"How am I shupposhed to do that?" Zylus had asked, hand sweaty where it was clutched around the phone._

_"Oh, however you see fit," they'd said. "We trust your ingenuity, mhm, mhm."_

_And Zylus had come up with a plan, damn himself straight to hell, and it would work, and it would be the most horrific thing he'd ever done to another human being._

_So he'd picked the habit up, one bottle at a time, because having little pockets of numbness and silence was the only way he was going to stay sane. He'd worked himself up to it, a little bit at a time—a touch of gaslighting here, a dash of invalidation there—until opportunity presented itself and the time came to strike the first crack into Nilesy's sanity._

_"I just—don't know what to do," Panda said, lounging on the couch with concern swimming through his every thought. "He's so unhappy and stressed out and I just—wish I could do something to help, you know?"_

_Zylus sighed, shaking his head. "Look," he said. "Don't ever mention that I shaid thish to you, all right? It'sh cheating, and it'sh alsho incredibly grossh, but. . . ."_

_"What?" said Panda, drawn between delight and caution._

_"Knivesh," Zylus mumbled. "He'sh been wanting you to. . . ." He brushed his own hairline with the tip of his middle finger, a calculated gesture stolen from Nilesy's nightmares. "For agesh. Hairline to hipsh."_

_"Wait, seriously?" Panda said, grinning._

_"Look, jusht—drop it, all right? It'sh grossh. I shouldn't have mentioned it."_

_"Aw, it's all right, Zy. Thank you. I'll try not to think about it too much around—"_

_"Shh!" Zylus hissed, feeling the slosh of Nilesy's thoughts change direction._

_Nilesy walked into the room and folded his arms, a bright exterior covering dim and grimy suspicion._

_"Sorry, have I interrupted something?" he asked._

_And that night, Zylus felt it happen, felt the flashback tear through Nilesy's mind like a hurricane, and knew through the pain and the sickness and the awful dislocation that it was all his fault. . . ._

_He got very, very drunk afterwards, but it didn't make him forget._

* * *

 

_Zylus was so drunk he couldn't see straight, and this was according to plan. He'd started up just after the cake had been given out, half because of habit and half because of what he knew he had to do. There was no way he could do it sober. Between the guilt and the disgust and the terror, it would have been impossible._

_It took far too long for Nilesy to end up alone. He talked with Rythian for what felt like half an hour, and it was all warm fuzzies so far as Zylus could tell. He couldn't tell much, of course, because he was really blindingly drunk, but he could tell that nothing had gone wrong._

_Things were about to go very wrong for Nilesy._

_Again._

_The kiss itself wasn't the worst part. In his utterly trashed state, it was almost nice. The worst part was how definitively, how stringently Nilesy didn't want it. There was no attraction there, no spark of anything, nothing but fear and confusion and hurt. Zylus couldn't get much through the fog in his head, but he could tell enough to know that the immediate effects of this sick game were almost as bad as the long-term ones. He mumbled some excuse as he left the room. He kept drinking until he passed out._

_The morning after was worse. He could hear snatches and mutters of thought spilling out of Nilesy's head, could feel him cracking as his reality destabilized. Zylus stuck to his plans, wore his annoyance like armor, carried it off without a shred of suspicion ever marring Nilesy's frightened disbelief._

_He forced himself to stay sober the whole rest of the day, because he deserved so much worse than having to listen to Nilesy's crumbling mind. Zylus had done this to him, would keep doing this to him until he broke completely, and so it was only fair that he should have to endure the same torment, if only secondhand._

* * *

 

_"I'm shorry," Zylus whispered, while Nilesy struggled beneath him, yanking weakly at his wrists while his mind dimmed and darkened. "I'm shorry, I'm shorry. . . ."_

_Nilesy went out like a candle, snuffed beneath a glass. His eyes sagged shut and his body went limp. Zylus tumbled off the bed, his vision blurred with tears, his guts in tangles. He just barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up. He was burning all over, trembling violently. His wrists ached where Nilesy had clutched them, and the promise of bruises there set his heart racing in panic. He crept through Lomadia's empty room to get back to his own, fumbled under his desk and blistered the inside of his throat with alcohol, trying to sterilize the sickness in him, trying to drown the clamor of his own mind._

_It took a quarter of the bottle, but finally he managed to get himself under control. Without letting go of the bottle, huddled under his desk, he called Gozencrantz._

_"It'sh done," he said. His voice was hoarse, shaking._

_"Very good, Mr. Lucas," they said. Their voice made him want to throw up all over again. He just drank instead. "And the, hmm, results?"_

_"Xephosh ishn't coming back, he'sh willing to kill the othersh, he doeshn't know about either of you," Zylus reported. The alcohol lubricated the words, letting them slip out even though they were thorny with guilt. He drank again._

_"As we expected. Well done, Mr. Lucas. We will contact you again when next we require your assistance. In the mean time, mhm, please do continue your overall assignment. You seem to have made exemplary progress thus far."_

_"Ash you exshpected?" Zylus hissed, his hand clenching on the neck of the bottle. His fingers were sore from choking half the life out of Nilesy. "You made me do thish for nothing?"_

_"No, Mr. Lucas, we made you do this because you were falling behind," Gozencrantz said. "You have taken quite a bit of time already to get this far. We haven't the patience to allow you to slack off, mhm, mhm."_

_"You fucking bashtardsh," Zylus said, venomous. "You shick fucking—"_

_"Mr. Lucas, if you have complaints, we would be more than willing to allow you to discuss them with the Division," Gozencrantz said mildly. "We could certainly arrange for one or more of them to, mhm, pay you a visit."_

_Zylus curled into himself, sick and furious and utterly powerless._

_"No complaintsh," he croaked._

_"Very good," said Gozencrantz. "Until next time, Mr. Lucas."_

_He said nothing. They hung up._

_He drank until he passed out, half hoping it would kill him._

* * *

 

_Zylus never was quite sure whether the drowned man had been a setup. He didn't dare to ask Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern about it. He wouldn't put it past them to arrange to have someone killed for the sake of whatever excruciatingly long game they were playing. He was also aware of how very disposable he was._

_It could have been a coincidence. He didn't believe it was a coincidence._

_But he stepped in anyway, picked up the threads he was given and tied them in a neat little noose for Nilesy to hang himself with. There was something almost satisfying about watching the seeds he'd planted come sprouting up so nice and healthy, the self-doubt, the fear, the total distrust of his own perceptions and all of his friends. Zylus had set himself up to be the only person Nilesy could possibly trust, and Nilesy had leapt into it head-first. He was so unstable now, it would be easy to drive him to kill, and kill again, and again and again until Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern told him to make it stop._

_Zylus prayed, for everyone's sake, that they made it stop soon._

_In his darker, drunker moments, he prayed that it would be him Nilesy killed. It seemed far more likely._

* * *

 

_The setup was perfect, and he hated it. Nilesy hadn't woken when he'd slipped into the bathroom, invisible, and filled up the tub and sink, when he'd spilled water all over the floor, when he'd written the message on the mirror in dollar-store nail polish. It felt perverse, sneaking into Nilesy's room while he slept, fumbling under his bed to find the mask. Nilesy stirred as Zylus slipped out, his mind flickering to light from the dim glow of sleep. Zylus dumped the mask next to the sink and ducked into Lomadia's room, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as he could. He was still invisible, but he needed the extra layer of protection between himself and Nilesy, just in case something went wrong. He put his back to the door and sat down, heart his his throat, listening._

_What started as a drizzle whipped itself up to a hurricane, a roar of thought and longing that threatened to drown Zylus under the sheer aching weight of it. Even through all of that, even through the oceanic want like the hunger of a starving man, he heard Nilesy's voice, clear and small amidst the storm._

_ No, it said, and broke Zylus's heart into a thousand pieces._

_"Dreaming, darling," he murmured, leaning his head back against the door, praying Nilesy was too far gone to recognize his voice, speaking the practiced phrase constructed to conceal his lisp. "Only dreaming. No harm in dreaming."_

_The hurricane roar became a screaming maelstrom, and then went silent. It was like having his breath knocked out, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. He felt Nilesy—or rather, Nilesy's third personality, unnamed—leave the house._

_He didn't allow himself to start drinking until after he'd cleaned everything up, and Nilesy had come home again, until Zylus had brought him down easy from the high of murder done right. He nestled Nilesy between his legs, sitting on the bed, the other man's back against his chest. It took some coaxing, but Nilesy mostly handled it himself. Zylus just held him, just a warm body, just a pair of arms, just lips against his neck. He almost enjoyed it, so long as he didn't think about it too much._

* * *

 

_A week later he did it again. It was horrifically easy. There was no resistance whatsoever, maybe because of Zylus's lies about dreaming, maybe because the stress of having killed once made it that much easier for Nilesy to sink beneath the surface of himself and allow that other mind to run him. Once again,_ _Zylus_ _was waiting for_ _him_ _when he got home, and once again Nilesy went with him willingly._

_He kissed Nilesy's neck, filling himself up with the spillover from_ _Nilesy's_ _mind, because_ _it felt good,_ _because_ _he could almost convince himself that he liked it, and_ _so long as he was quick with the alcohol afterwards he could drown out the disgust and the guilt and the_ _ shame _ _. . . ._

_When it was over, and Nilesy had gone quiet and doll-like, Zylus cleaned him up and put him to bed, went over the room with a fine-toothed comb to ensure nothing was left out of place, no hint of the crime left to give him away. He slipped back into his own room, half out of his body, numb and distant and vague. The temptation to chug the entire bottle of gin was almost too great to resist, but making himself throw it all up before it got him drunk completely defeated the point._

* * *

 

_And the next week Nilesy resisted, and Zylus learned how to be afraid again. Half-panicked, he scrambled for a solution. It was a mark of how far gone he was that the one he decided on was so stupid._

_The fourth week, Zylus made a personal appearance, counting on Nilesy's distrust of his own perceptions to protect him. It didn't work. Nilesy fought back, and God was he angry, he was as angry as Zylus had ever seen him, and to have that storm-lashed sea of rage crashing at his own body scared him more than nearly anything else. He barely felt the blows as they landed, furious and wild. He half-wished Lalna hadn't pulled Nilesy off him, had just let Nilesy beat him to death on the floor, because then at least he wouldn't have to lie to him, wouldn't have to keep ripping at the shreds of an already tattered mind._

_"You'd better tie him down," he gasped, when Nilesy lost consciousness in Lalna's arms. "I'm getting out while I shtill can."_

_No one had argued. He'd gotten himself a hotel room and four bottles of cinnamon whiskey. He only stopped drinking when he passed out, and started again as soon as he woke up. He could only imagine the hell Nilesy was going through, the hell Zylus had purposefully cast him into. When Nano texted asking him to come back, he couldn't tell if he was relieved or horrified. Mostly he was drunk._

_And then he came home and the debacle picked up right where it had left off, and with four words he shifted Nilesy's entire paradigm, made himself a hero by vilifying a nearly innocent woman._

_"It wash her idea," he whispered in Nilesy's ear, and felt him stiffen, felt the crashing chill of his mind go flat and gray._

_It was so goddamn easy it made him sick._

* * *

 

_"What choishe did I have?" he demanded of Nano. "What fucking other option wash there? Jeshush Chrisht, after all the shit I've gone through to keep you people shafe—"_

_He broke off, nearly swallowing his tongue in sheer terror. He could already practically see the house in flames, feel their heat in the blistering sunlight. Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern would know immediately, at their very next phone call, would send the Division, rout them from their home and slaughter them in the streets, and it was his fault, all his fault. . . ._

_"Keep us safe?" Nano demanded. "From what?"_

_Zylus swallowed, his mind racing too fast for him to think. Maybe if he warned them now, maybe if he got Nilesy together enough to stand against them. . . ._

_"From him?" she said._

_The clouds parted, and he heard, for a moment, the sound of his salvation. He continued to not answer, watching Nano draw her own, wildly incorrect, conclusions. He played along with her as she spun out a sordid tale of deceit, led her gently into absolving him of any responsibility._

_Honestly, he didn't feel so bad about it. It wasn't nearly as bad as what he was actually doing. It was practically tame, by comparison._

_It had the added bonus of ensuring all of them lived to see next week._

* * *

 

_The trysts started mostly by accident and got out of hand almost immediately. The first one happened while they were out on the road, a couple of days out of Las Vegas and just starting to settle into the traveling lifestyle. Something drove Nilesy out of the room, into the cool dark outside, and something made Zylus follow him. He was only slightly drunk, just enough to take the edge off, and that probably had a lot to do with why it happened the way it did._

_Nilesy was anxious, nearly incoherent. Zylus wasn't sure what all it was about, something to do with confined spaces and Panda and Lomadia, and Nilesy was fraying apart like a string with too much tension on it, and his endless pacing was driving Zylus crazy, and Zylus caught him by the arm just to hold him still for a moment._

_Nilesy lit up all over, bioluminescent, glowing with the touch, and the feeling that spilled out of him was so fucking good that Zylus half drowned in it, and before he knew what he was doing he had Nilesy pushed up against the wall and was kissing his neck, ten times as drunk on feeling as he was on alcohol. It was the first time anything had felt good in weeks. He gathered, in bits and snatches, that Nilesy was so starved for touch that it was unbearable, that any contact was ecstasy, that even this twisted mockery of intimacy was intoxicating._

_He also gathered intense shame, and guilt, and self-loathing, although it was difficult to tell which one of them that was coming from._

_"This is wrong," Nilesy gasped, but didn't try to stop him._

_"Shut up," Zylus growled._

_It was about when Nilesy got handsy that it stopped being fun. The whole situation was already disgusting in its own right, although at least it produced immense psychological rewards—but then Nilesy got his hands on Zylus's hips, skin to skin underneath his shirt, an unbearable act of sexuality that nearly made Zylus vomit. He walked away without a word, leaving Nilesy out in the dark, alone and cold. He had to get drunk, because he couldn't bear himself any longer, couldn't live with what he'd done._

_It happened four more times, over the course of a couple weeks. Zylus forced himself to put a stop to it, no matter how good it felt, because it was ripping Nilesy to shreds. His last set of directions from Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern had just been, "keep him ready to kill." If things went on the way they were going, it wouldn't be a matter of ready. It would only be a matter of who he killed first, himself or everyone around him._

_He kept pressure on the wedge between Nilesy and the others, especially Panda and Lomadia. They were far too stabilizing of an influence, far too sane, far too reasonable. The whole thing would fall apart in a matter of hours if Nilesy was allowed to resume normal interactions with other people._

_Especially with Lomadia, because somehow or other, she'd caught on._

* * *

 

_The sex wasn't even the worst part, and that more than anything drove home how fucked up the whole situation was. Zylus barely remembered it, and thanked his lucky stars for it, too. It was bad enough, just knowing it had happened, just left with vague impressions and drunken blurs, novel sorenesses that made him unbearably sick. He hid himself from Nilesy in the morning, let him assume there were bruises where none existed. He couldn't bear to be seen anyway, not by Nilesy and not by anyone else. Zylus contrived not to be sober for three days afterwards. It wasn't enough. It was too much._

_By the time he managed to rejoin reality, it was already far too late to go back. Nilesy had broken up with Panda and Lomadia almost immediately, just as Zylus had thought he would. He found him shivering alone in his room, starved and sick, and took up the mantle of caring for him. He scarcely left Nilesy's side for the next two days._

_They fucked again, twice. He couldn't make himself do it sober, even though it was what he deserved._

_He wasn't sure if he wanted to die so badly because the feeling was spilling over from Nilesy's head, or just because he was a monster._

* * *

 

_Things had gotten utterly out of control ever since Strife had entered the picture._

_It wasn't long after Zylus's arrival in Bristol that Gozencrantz and Ruildenstern called him in for a meeting, face to face. He only barely managed to slip off without anybody noticing, and even then, he checked his old phone compulsively all the way to YogLabs, certain that someone would text or call demanding to know where he was, where he'd run off to, certain that this would be the final straw that clued them all in to his ugly deceit. Never mind that none of them even knew he still had the phone._

_Ruildenstern met him at the door, smiling. Their mind, as always, was dead silent. It still made Zylus's scalp prickle. They led him back to a meeting room where Gozencrantz was waiting._

_"Oh, dear," Gozencrantz said, as Zylus entered and Ruildenstern took a seat._

_"Indeed," said Ruildenstern._

_"Evidently times have been hard, mhm, mhm," said Gozencrantz._

_"I've done what you ashked," Zylus said. He could feel the filth of all the sex still clinging to him, even after innumerable showers and more alcohol than he liked to think about. He burned with shame. He wished they wouldn't look at him._

_"So far," said Ruildenstern._

_"Reluctantly," said Gozencrantz._

_"We understand you prevented the death of Mr. William Strife," said Ruildenstern._

_"We would be curious to know, hmm, why you chose to do so," said Gozencrantz._

_"Becaushe he'sh usheful," said Zylus._

_"Certainly," said Ruildenstern._

_"Highly," said Gozencrantz._

_"Mr. Lucas, let us not be, hmm, coy with each other," said Ruildenstern, leaning forward._

_Gozencrantz copied the movement. "You know our intention."_

_"And we know yours."_

_"It would be very unfortunate for us to be at cross-purposes, at this time."_

_"Any time you want to shtop twishting my arm," Zylus snapped, "I'll be happy to get back to work."_

_The two looked at each other. They looked at him._

_"You will destroy the Administrative Board, Mr. Lucas," said Gozencrantz._

_"Including Mr. Strife," said Ruildenstern._

_"And afterwardsh?" Zylus demanded._

_They smiled at him._

_"We shall see, mhm, mhm," said Gozencrantz._

_"Dependent upon your performance."_

_"No one lives forever, Zachary," said Gozencrantz. For just an instant, the sealed doors of their mind cracked open, and he saw a vast and intricate web of thought, entangled inextricably with Robin Ruildenstern's. He felt himself drawn in, like a fly, caught and unable to get loose. He felt like he was sinking. He felt like he was drowning._

_The door clicked shut again, leaving him in silence._

_"Not even me," said Gray Gozencrantz._

_"Naturally, your uses are multifarious," said Robin._

_"And, mhm, long-term," said Gray._

_Zylus still couldn't breathe. He was clutching the table like the spinning of the Earth was going to fling him into space. He needed a drink. He really needed a fucking drink._

_"Unless, of course, you fail to eliminate the Board," said Robin._

_"You are far from the only candidate," said Gray._

_"But certainly the most promising."_

_"My friendsh," Zylus wheezed, his mouth dry and sandy. "What about . . . what happensh to them?"_

_Again, Gray and Robin looked at each other._

_"What friends?" Robin asked._

_"Certainly he must understand, they are no longer friends," said Gray._

_"After the, hmm, horrors he's inflicted on that poor boy?"_

_"Three flavors of abuse, and utterly remorseless."_

_"Perhaps it would be kinder if we simply eliminated them, hmm?"_

_"Rather than allow them to discover the traitor in their midst."_

_"Traitor is a kind word for it, isn't it, Gray?"_

_"Too kind, mhm, mhm."_

_"No," Zylus said, hating himself more than ever, hating his weakness, hating his fear, hating the unflinching clarity of his own thoughts. "No, I'll—I'll do anything you ashk. Jusht . . . let them go. Do whatever you want with me, but let them walk away."_

_Gray and Robin smiled their tight little smiles at him._

_"That can be done," said Robin._

_"We must give you at least one concession, mhm, mhm."_

* * *

 

_And by the time he'd sobered up in the morning, Nilesy was in Strife's bed and Strife's mind was full of sordid horrors._

_Zylus almost killed him then. Zylus had meant to kill him then. Strife's thoughts had flickered to the gun in the desk and Zylus had gone for it without hesitation._

_Like snuffing out a candle. Like flicking off a light. Like pulling a trigger._

_Nilesy stood behind him, hurt and frightened and confused. Vee stood behind him, gleeful in his wrath. Liam stood behind him, more vast than all the oceans, stronger than God and ten times as vengeful._

_There was not a one amongst them that didn't want to see Strife's brains plastered on the wall._

_Like cutting a thread. Like smashing a glass. Like gunpowder and lead._

_Some things could not be fixed._

_Again his weakness betrayed him. He would've been able to do it if he hadn't been sober. His fury at himself came through his teeth like fire. His fury at Strife gave too much power to his hands, lent them bruising strength where gentleness would have sufficed._

_His fury at Nilesy was born of a purely selfish fear, and it made him cruel._

_He couldn't, of course, let Nilesy have anything approaching normal human interactions, especially not with Nano, especially not when she was already so suspicious. She would ask questions. She and Lalna and Rythian would find a way to make Nilesy answer. The whole thing would fall apart. The Division would come. He couldn't even get drunk, not now, not when things were so precarious._

_The fear made him harsher than he needed to be. He tried to make up for it by giving Nilesy one normal night, one good night._

_It was inevitable, by then, that he only made it worse, strengthened the dependence and drank deep of Nilesy's need. It was inevitable, by then, that it came back around to sex. Not immediately, but scarcely a day after. And the day after that, too. He told himself it was to keep Nilesy from ending up with Strife again._

_It was inevitable, by then, that he had to drink to believe himself._

* * *

 

_"What the fuck wash that?"_

_Robin didn't answer for a moment, letting the silence become awkward after such a virulent opening._

_"The terms of our agreement were that we would not call in the Division if you cooperated," they said. "We never claimed responsibility for preventing others from deploying them."_

_"We almosht all died," Zylus hissed into his phone. His tongue was half numb from the blistering sting of grain alcohol. He was drunk enough that he hadn't thought it was a bad idea to get in contact with Robin._

_"And yet, hmm, here you are," Robin said._

_"I'm not doing thish anymore. I'm done. I'm out. You don't have any fucking leverage left."_

_"At this juncture, Zachary, we don't need it," Robin said. "If you would like to confess your months of lies and abuse, you are welcome to do so. I'm sure the reception will be, hmm, spectacular. And, of course, once your former friends have executed you, they will proceed to complete the mission we originally tasked you with regardless, and we will afterwards dispose of them however we see fit. You are not necessary, Zachary. If you continue to cooperate, you and your friends will survive these next few days, and if you are sensible, you will find yourself with powerful allies and a very promising life ahead of you."_

_"And if I don't cooperate, I die, ish that it?" he demanded, tears blurring his vision. "I and all my friendsh die?"_

_"You have hit the nail very firmly on the head," Robin said._

_"Wash that the choishe you got? Ish that what Gray offered you, too? Asshimilate or die?"_

_"If you are asking if you will end up like us, hmm, that is not an answer we have," said Robin._

_"That'sh not what I ashked, no," said Zylus._

_There was a long moment of silence. He had to sit down because the world was spinning too fast._

_"The process is painful," Robin said. "But it is ultimately worthwhile."_

_"Shtill not what I ashked," said Zylus._

_"My choice, Zachary, was between a lifetime of pain and isolation and one of staggering intimacy," Robin snapped. They took a slow breath and continued in a much more measured voice. "I thought it, hmm, rewarding. To never have to be alone again. The immense power was a bonus."_

_"Wash it your idea, or Gray'sh?" he asked. "To replashe them."_

_"No one is being replaced any time soon," said Robin._

_"You're doing it again," said Zylus._

_For the second time, they hesitated._

_"I . . . don't know," they admitted. "It hardly matters."_

_"Who were you?" he asked. "Before Gray. Who were you?"_

_"I was no one, Zachary," they said. "Much as you are now. I trust you will, hmm, complete your mission as directed."_

_" You trusht? Not we?"_

_"Your attempts to get into my head are a tad premature, Zachary," they said, amused. "When your current assignment is complete, rest assured, you will be, hmm, invited in."_

_Zylus just hung up, too sick to muster any further words._

* * *

 

_The pain was blinding, all-consuming, but Zylus kept going. It was all over. Everyone was going to die, or worse, be handed over to YogLabs. He should have known they would turn up. He should have known they would break their promises. He should have . . . should have. . . ._

_He knew he was going to die. There was too much blood already for anything else, far too much pain. The cold was getting into his fingers and toes. His breaths gurgled._

_He had eyes for the gun alone, yanked from its holster and thrown miles away from where he'd fallen. Every movement was agony, his arms barely strong enough to drag him across the ground. He would never make it. He might as well give up, because there was no way he would have the strength for another foot of movement . . . another . . . another. . . ._

_His fingers closed on cold metal. He could barely feel it. Everything was pain, and his mind was opaque with fog, and he was sinking, slowly, slowly, into an iron sea. . . ._

* * *

 

Zylus woke.

This in and of itself was remarkable. There was, however, a great deal of pain, throbbing through his whole chest and abdomen; the tightness of stitches, the stiffness of bandages. There were needles and tubes in his arms, an oxygen mask over his face. He could hear the beeping of a heart monitor. He could smell antiseptic, fresh-washed sheets, floor polish, all the hallmark scents of a hospital.

That, he considered, was even _more_ remarkable.

"Whoops, there you are," came a female voice, and Zylus nearly jumped out of his own skin. He winced as lances of pain shot through his chest. He was almost too weak to turn his head, but he managed, and saw the nurse standing at his bedside. For a moment, he couldn't process it. There was only silence around him. He tried to reach out with his Powers, to hear some shred of thought, but there was nothing. A terrible dread awoke in his stomach, familiar and cold.

Perhaps not so remarkable, after all.

"What . . . do you want?" he croaked. His voice was hoarse and unbearably weak.

"Well, I thought I'd go on and give you your next dose of meds, dear," she said. "Otherwise it's going to be a very difficult night for you."

"No, I . . . Gray and . . . Robin, where. . . ?"

She frowned. No thought accompanied the motion, no hint of feeling or sound. No matter how he strained, he could hear _nothing._ Was he alone in this hospital, or facsimile thereof? Had they found some way to isolate him, some shielding around the room to prevent him from hearing. . . ?

"Sorry, who?" said the nurse. "Are those family members, dear? Afraid we can't let you have visitors at least until the morning, visiting hours're over for the night."

His mind was slipping gears left and right, leaving him struggling, scrambling. The pain didn't help. He remembered—blood. An awful lot of blood. And gunshots. And . . . Nano? Nano leaning over him, Nano speaking his name, Nano pressing against the awful mass of pain and numbness in his chest as the world went dark.

"But it's good you're awake and talking!" the nurse went on, cheery and unconcerned. "That's definitely a good sign. Still, best you go on resting for a bit. It was _very_ close, for a while there."

A possibility dawned on him, unthinkable and yet thought. He tried to wet his lips but his tongue was dry.

"Think of a number," Zylus quavered, his voice thin in his own ears, "between one and million."

The nurse pursed her lips and frowned, took a breath and sighed. Still, all was silence, darkness, small and isolated and _empty._

"All right," she said. "I've got it, what now?"

Zylus crumpled as the realization hit him, as reality sank in heavy and immutable. His head tipped back against the pillows, his face scrunched up, some short and ragged exhalations passed his lips as tears slid down his face. Even he wasn't sure if it was laughter or sobs, echoing in the tiny, stuffy silence in his head.

"Oh," said the nurse. She patted his arm. "There, there."

Soon after, the medication kicked in, and he drifted back into sleep.

For the first time in a decade, his dreams were his alone.


	46. Chapter 45

It got very quiet after Panda and the others left.

Rythian sat still, hands folded in his lap, keeping his breathing slow and regular. Tears continued to slip from his eyes, but he paid them no mind. Any movement, any twitch, would have shattered his self-control, flung him weeping atop Lalna's corpse for the second time in as many years.

Their ungloved hand was frozen in a golden thumbs-up. He focused on that, to the exclusion of all else, until the edges of his vision started to blur. He had to believe they had planned for this. He had to believe they'd left him that gesture as a signal.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before the gold started to recede. It started in the floor, making a noise like frost thawing, a quiet chittering that soon filled the room around him. The fractal swaths of gleaming metal shrank off the walls, the floor. Two hand-shaped patches on Lalna's forearms regained their color. Rythian clenched his fists so hard his fingers went numb.

The change back went impressively fast, like a cheap film effect. The gold drained off of Lalna in a rapid wave, leaving them in full color. Their hand stayed frozen in its thumbs-up. A minute passed in silence, then two. Rythian's knuckles were aching.

There was a _click,_ and then a whirr. Lalna's eyes flickered with light. Rythian nearly bit off his tongue, wishing, hoping, praying.

_Not again, not again, not again. . . ._

The whirr became a whine, and there were clicks and creaks from inside them. Their eyes turned blue, the light becoming steady.

"Partial reboot initialized," they said, their voice flat and professional. Their mouth did not move. "Playing message."

Rythian watched them, hands clenched in his lap, heart in his throat.

"Hello," Lalna said quietly, sadly. Their mouth was still not moving. "I'm synthesizing this message in the six seconds before I implement a full system shutdown. I set up a partial reboot protocol so that I could be removed from harm's way quickly in case I was forced to shut down. While partially rebooted, I will have full motor functionality, but my personality matrix, morality database, interpersonal software, and other accessory systems will be offline. I will be able to respond to simple commands, such as _stand, walk, turn left, turn right,_ and _stop._ When we are in a safe location, you can use the command _reboot_ to initialize a full system restart that should return me to normal functions."

Their eyes stared straight ahead, cool blue and unblinking.

"I hope you're unharmed," they said, "and I'm sorry I was forced to use this contingency. I love you very much, and I trust you with everything that I am. I hope I will see you very soon."

With that, their voice dropped back to the soulless, mechanical drone they'd started with.

"End of message," they said.

A pair of tears slid down Rythian's cheeks. He took a deep and shuddering breath.

"Stand," he said softly.

With a purely robotic efficiency, Lalna's body sat up, adjusted itself, and got to its feet. It stood perfectly still, blank-faced. Slowly, Rythian heaved himself to his feet, exhaustion heavy on his bones.

A distant shout echoed up through the open door. Rythian hesitated, looking between the open doorway and Lalna, standing perfectly still before him. He didn't hear anything else from further on. He bit his lip.

"Turn left," he said. Lalna turned ninety degrees to their left. Rythian took them by the shoulders and adjusted their trajectory manually.

"Walk," he said.

Lalna started forward, one heavy footstep after another. Rythian went with them, guiding them with his voice. The corkscrew passage presented some difficulty, but eventually Rythian just let Lalna scrape against the outer wall instead of trying to talk them through every turn.

The two of them made it up to the room where Sips had died. They had some trouble with the stairs before Rythian happened upon the command _step up._ It took a good minute to get up the short flight, back into the blood-drenched corridor with the concrete baffles, but then it was smooth sailing.

It was raining. Rythian had no concept of how long it had been since they'd arrived—it could have been minutes, hours, days. Rythian took Lalna's hand, although they certainly couldn't feel him. They kept swinging their arm regardless, in perfect time with their steps.

The journey back to the inn was arduous, anxious. Rythian could feel every eye in the sleepy little town upon him, watching Lalna's curiously robotic movements, noting the spatters of blood and dirt on their clothes, observing the blue glow Lalna's eyes cast into the fog and the drizzle. Two miles felt like twenty, especially with the exhaustion slowly turning his bones to lead.

He left Lalna out behind the inn, smoothed down his own hair, and stepped inside. He could hear sparks crackling through his wet clothes already. The woman behind the desk looked up as he entered, alerted by the dinging of a little bell above the door.

"Um," said Rythian.

"Yes, dear?" said the woman, blinking at him owlishly.

"Um, we had a—a room, here," he said. "I don't have—I lost my . . . key? Someone else made the reservation, I don't—"

"Oh, yes, of course, the Lucas party," said the woman. "I was wondering when you'd all come by to get your keys. Left in an awful hurry. Where's all the rest of your folks, then?"

"Um," said Rythian. "Still—still out. I didn't—my—my friend and I came . . . back. To wait for them."

"Ah, yes, I see, I see," said the woman, nodding her gray head. "Just a moment, dear, I'll be right back."

Rythian stood there fidgeting while she tottered into a back room, muttering to herself. He listened as closely as he could, in case she was calling the police, in case she was calling YogLabs, in case . . . in case. . . .

The woman returned with a key and set it down on the desk.

"There you are, love," she said. "For the big room."

Rythian edged over and pulled the key away by its plastic tag. He stuck it in his pocket.

"Th-thanks," he said. "I'll just—go get my friend. Um."

"Of course. If he wants a key, too, just let me know, dear."

He bit back the instinctive _they,_ bobbed his head in awkward gratitude, and went back outside to get Lalna. They were right where he'd left them, wet and dripping from the rain.

It took some finagling, but he managed to get them in through the back door and up to the rooms. They were on the first floor, and the stairs, again, took much longer than they had any right to. Eventually, and with great gratitude, Rythian shut and locked the room's door behind him, closing Lalna off from prying eyes.

Rythian breathed a sigh of relief and put his back to the door. Lalna continued to stand in the center of the room, unmoving.

"Lalna?" Rythian said.

They did not respond. Rythian rubbed his eyes, hardly able to keep them open. His vision was starting to blur. He wondered, very briefly, if he could just leave Lalna here while he went off to find something to eat, or even just some coffee. He decided against it.

"Let's try . . . lie down."

They did not respond.

"Sit?" Rythian suggested.

Nothing. He sighed again.

"Just please don't fall over," he muttered. He took a steadying breath and said, _"Reboot."_

For a moment, nothing happened. Lalna continued to stand perfectly still. Then there was a sharp _click,_ and the whirr of them spun down to silence. They started, ever so slowly, to topple forward. Rythian darted over and caught them by the shoulders. Their weight nearly crushed him, but he did manage to lower them to the floor without _too_ much noise. He rolled them onto their back, in case that would help.

For a time, all was silence. The tension started creeping up his spine again, the taste of bile on the back of his tongue.

There was a _click,_ and a whirr, and a flicker of light in their eyes. Rythian let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Joints aching, head spinning, he went into the bathroom and dried himself off as best he could. His clothes were still soaked, and he was freezing, and exhausted, and starving, but there wasn't much that could be done about that. He returned to the main room and found an electric coffee maker with some cheap packets of coffee. He started himself a pot and then went to kneel at Lalna's side.

Waiting, again.

* * *

 

The others came back forty-five minutes later.

Rythian leapt to his feet when he heard a key in the door, moving to stand in front of Lalna, who was still prone on the floor. The door opened and Nano, Panda, and Lomadia filed in.

They were bloodied. They were drenched with rain. They were pale and downcast and something in the slump of their shoulders squeezed all the air out of Rythian's lungs.

"Where's . . . where's Nilesy and Zylus?" he asked, his voice tremulous.

Lomadia closed the door behind her. Panda shut his eye and hugged himself, his face twisted with pain. Nano kept her gaze down and her lips pinched.

"Oh, Christ," Rythian whispered. The weight of his bones doubled. A vast hole opened up in his stomach, leaving him flimsy. "Both of them?"

"They're not . . . dead," Nano said. Her voice was hoarse. There was blood all over her trousers, her shirt, her arms. Her coat was gone. "Not—I mean, not yet. Not so far as we . . . know."

Somehow, this failed to be any relief. Rythian looked around at the others, at their pallor and their pain.

"What _happened?"_ he asked.

Nano glanced at Panda and Lomadia. She sighed.

"I think you'd better sit down," she said.

"Lalna should hear, too," said Lomadia, very quietly. "We should wait. They should hear, too."

Rythian looked over his shoulder at them. Even as he watched, the eyes blinked, the chest swelled with a synthetic breath. Despite the heaviness in every part of him, Rythian's heart leapt.

Lalna sat up. They looked right at Rythian and their eyes turned pink.

"Good morning," they said.

Rythian dropped to his knees and flung his arms around them. He could not speak for the lump in his throat. He was shivering, tears rolling from his eyes. They put their arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

"I'm glad you're unharmed," they murmured.

Rythian could only sniffle and squeeze them tighter. He felt them raise their head and look around the room.

"Where are Nilesy and Zylus?" they asked.

There was a loud creak as someone dropped onto the bed. Nano sighed.

"All right," she said. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

 

By the end, Rythian was frozen in place, still cradled in Lalna's arms. His blood had all turned to ice. He was sure he would have vomited if he'd opened his mouth even the slightest bit.

"They took him to Chapel Allerton Hospital," Nano said. She was crying, her voice hoarse and thin. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her wrist. The blood on her clothes had gone dark and crusty. "I went in the ambulance, up—they had me ride up in the front so they could. . . . And—Lom and Panda met up with me afterwards, and . . . we came back here. He's—it didn't—it doesn't look good. He was—they said. . . ." She trailed off.

"They said they'd try," said Lomadia. Her voice was very small.

"And . . . Nilesy?" Lalna asked.

"We don't know," Nano said, her voice breaking into a whisper at the end.

A silence followed. Lalna squeezed Rythian gently. Panda was sitting in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried between them. Minutes passed without anyone saying anything. Rythian shivered.

"How long?" he asked softly. "How long was he. . . ?"

Nano shrugged. "Hard to say."

"And—everything with Nilesy, with the—when he—"

"Yes," said Nano.

Rythian swallowed down his revulsion. He drew closer to Lalna, hoping the warmth of their body would drive away his tremors.

"This does not make sense," Lalna said, sounding so lost and so frightened that it made Rythian's heart twinge with pain. "I do not understand. I do not understand why any of this happened."

Nano put her head in her hands.

"Join the club," she muttered.

Lomadia sat down on the bed next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

Not much else was said for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

In the morning, the hospital called Nano. She spoke in short sentences that gave very little clue as to what was being said, although Lomadia had deflated early on in the conversation. Nano thanked the person on the other end and hung up.

"He made it through the night," she said. "The surgeries went well enough, apparently, and he's not on death's door anymore."

Panda heaved a shuddering sigh, somewhere approaching relief. Lomadia took Nano's hand and started petting it.

"Is that . . . good or bad?" Rythian asked.

Nano shrugged. _"I_ don't know, Rythian. It just means he's not dead right now. I don't know if he'll . . . there's no guarantee he'll pull through, in the long run."

"Maybe he could tell us what happened," Lomadia said. "Maybe he can explain everything."

"Not any time soon," said Nano. "I wouldn't think, anyway. It's—it was really bad, sweetheart. It was _really_ bad. You don't just walk away from being stabbed a dozen times in the chest."

Panda quietly got up and went back to the corner and curled up very small again.

"Your application of the serum may have been sufficient to save his life," Lalna mentioned. Nano waved them off.

"All I did was keep him from dying in my arms," she said. "And I'm—honestly, Lal, I'm not sure I should have."

_"Don't,"_ Panda snarled, muffled.

"He was a traitor, Panda," Nano said.

"He saved our lives," said Panda.

Nano pursed her lips, took a deep breath through her nose.

"Let's not get into that right now," she said.

"I think he could explain everything," Lomadia said. "I think we should go see him and he can tell us."

"Someone should . . . stay here," Rythian said. "In case . . . Nilesy comes back."

"He's not coming back," Panda muttered.

"Honestly, sweetheart, I don't think—" Nano began, and stopped.

"What?" said Lomadia, like she was getting ready to be disappointed.

"I'm not sure he'll be awake," Nano said carefully, "and I'm not sure he'd tell us the truth, even if he was. _But._ I agree with you. We should at least try and go see him. We should at least . . . _ask_ him to explain. If he can."

Lomadia's wings perked up a little.

"Okay," she said. "It's not far, really, the hospital. It's not _that_ far. Can we go right now?"

"I think—I think it'd be best to call them," said Nano. "Sometimes you can visit people in the ICU and sometimes you can't. You've got to ask the nurses, I think."

"Isn't it—sorry, but—isn't it just . . . family?" Rythian asked. "I don't really know how it . . . works."

"I gave them a list," said Nano. "When we . . . got there. They asked for a list, I put all our names on it."

"Oh," said Rythian. "So—but if they ask for ID or anything, what, um. . . ."

Nano shrugged. "We'll just have to figure it out."

"So . . . _can_ we go today?" Lomadia pressed.

With a sigh, Nano picked her phone back up.

"Let me call and ask," she said.

Without a word, Panda got up and left the room. Nano watched him, paused a moment, then returned her attention to the phone.

"Is he. . . ?" Rythian asked.

"Probably not," said Nano. She put the phone up to her ear and got up, pacing away into the bathroom.

"M-maybe someone should. . . ." Rythian said, gesturing weakly to the door.

Lomadia looked away. Lalna watched Rythian expectantly, their head to one side. In the bathroom, Nano started talking, her voice calm and professional. Rythian sighed.

"I'm just—I'll just—" he said. Awkwardly, he got to his feet and sidled out of the room.

* * *

 

He found Panda curled up behind the inn. It was still raining. Panda was huddled under the eaves, sitting in the mud. Rythian came over and sat beside him, not too close.

"Don't fucking talk to me," Panda mumbled. He was picking at his shoes, tearing the threads out one by one.

"Okay," said Rythian.

Several minutes passed in silence. Rain dripped off the eaves and splashed into the puddles that had formed underneath. Panda's breath was fogging the air in front of him. He'd torn a hole in his shoe big enough to stick his pinky through.

"I wish I was still diabetic," Panda said suddenly.

Rythian, taken aback, managed not to say anything. Panda made a disgusted noise and ripped another couple of threads out of his shoe.

"I mean," he said, "I _am_ still diabetic. I wish I didn't have this stupid new pancreas. So then it'd look like an accident if I injected too much insulin and fucking killed myself."

The first thought that popped into Rythian's head was _Oh_ _Christ_ _,_ _not_ _again_ _._ He swallowed it before it made it through his lips.

"Am I—" he began.

"No, shut the fuck up," Panda snapped.

Rythian raised his hands in surrender. Panda went on picking at his shoe.

"D'you think there's ever been anybody in the history of the fucking planet who's fucked up as badly as I have?" he mumbled, resting his cheek on his knee. "Honestly. Everything I've _ever_ done has just been one big fuck-up. I went and got this stupid pancreas and ruined everything. I fucking abandoned Niles and ruined everything. I—I fucking—I—"

Tears welled up in his eye and started rolling down his cheek. His voice choked off in a squeak. His hands both clenched, shaking.

Rythian waited. Panda sat there crying and sniffling and shivering.

"I don't even _know_ how many people I've killed," he said miserably, his words punctuated by hiccuping sobs. "And all—they were all—I just—they were always _them_ and we were always _us_ but—but he—but I—"

He buried his face in his knees and punched himself in the foot. The rain misted down, the drips splashed off the roof with an inscrutable rhythm. A minute passed, then two.

"Am I allowed to talk?" Rythian asked quietly.

"Whatever," Panda said, muffled and soggy.

Rythian took a deep breath.

"It's just that . . . your pancreas might already be dead."

Panda raised his head and looked at Rythian, scowling. His lower lip was still trembling. Rythian shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know," he said. "But you . . . sort of . . . hugged me. Which—okay, yes, I had just . . . discharged, so, I was _not_ at full voltage, or anywhere near it, but—if the electronics are sensitive enough—"

"I'm a fucking _idiot,"_ Panda moaned, banging his head on his knees. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid—"_

"No, that's not what I—" Rythian said, and broke off in a frustrated growl. He ran a hand back through his hair, looking out at the rain, the gray and foggy hills, the muted autumn colors of the trees.

"Just do me a favor and poke me in the heart," Panda mumbled. "Just end it already."

"Okay," said Rythian, in a fit of frustration.

Panda leapt away from him in a blur of speed, darting back out of arm's reach and whipping a knife out of his belt. Rythian watched him placidly, his hands still folded in his own lap. He raised an eyebrow, swallowing down his own chagrin at letting something so harsh get past his teeth.

Panda's face darkened with a blush, his scars turned pink. He looked down at the knife in his hand. His jaw clenched.

With a throat-tearing cry, he flung the knife out into the rain. It vanished in a spinning blur. Rythian didn't even hear it hit the ground. Panda sagged where he stood, tears welling in his eye again.

"I hate this," he whispered brokenly. "I hate this. I hate this. I _hate_ it. I _hate it. . . ."_

Rythian got to his feet, slowly, carefully. Panda bowed his head, shaking with sobs, his teeth bared in pain.

"I'm sorry," Rythian said quietly. "I want to help."

With a whirr and a gust of wind, Panda dashed out into the rain, and was gone.

* * *

 

Panda came back just after lunchtime. Nano's call to the hospital had revealed that they wouldn't be able to visit Zylus until tomorrow at the earliest, and the mood had been subdued. Rythian had informed the others of the possible loss of Panda's biomechanical pancreas. They had seemed to take it in stride, but it was possible that they were just at full worrying capacity and couldn't worry about anything else anymore. After dinner the night before, plus breakfast this morning, had gone without any signs of high blood sugar, Rythian had hoped that perhaps his concerns had been unfounded. As Panda trudged in, however, dripping wet from the rain and rubbing at his eye, dread settled heavy in Rythian's stomach.

Lalna observed Panda's entrance, frowning, their eyes light purple.

"I believe your blood sugar may be—" they began.

"Fuck off," said Panda, throwing himself face-down onto the bed.

"If it isn't treated—" Lalna pressed.

"Fuck _off!"_ Panda snapped, grabbing one of the pillows and slamming it down over his own head.

Lalna turned to Nano, appealing.

"There's a pharmacy less than a mile from here," they said. "If the cards Mr. Strife gave us are still functional, you should be able to purchase a vial of insulin, syringes, and alcohol wipes. He will also require a glucometer and test strips."

"Lal, I don't know if he'll take it even if we get it for him," Nano said, her face pinched with concern.

"I am prepared to administer a correction dose if he refuses to," Lalna said, their eyes flicking to blue.

"Like fucking _hell_ you are," Panda snarled, flipping over and sitting bolt-upright in a single blur of motion.

Lalna turned to him, expressionless and unconcerned. Their eyes turned bright, _bright_ red.

"Your stubborn refusal to medicate your own chronic illness is yet another facet of your reckless impulsivity and disregard for the feelings of others," they said calmly. "You ignored and lied to Nano when she advised you not to obtain your biomechanical pancreas. You ignored the warnings you were given about touching Rythian. You attacked and very nearly killed Zylus on the weight of uncertain, circumstantial evidence, which action you now regret deeply for little to no discernible reason. You once said to me that you suspected your logic matrix was faulty. I now believe that to be the case. You will damn well take your medicine whether you like it or not, and if I am forced to render you unconscious in order to administer it, I will do so."

Panda glared at them, vibrating with tension, his fists clenched on his thighs. Rythian bent his knees, ever so slightly, preparing for Panda to hurl himself at Lalna in screaming fury—

Panda burst into tears and flung himself onto the bed again, sobbing inconsolably. Lalna's eyes turned purple and they bent their head, ticking their one functioning thumb against the other.

With an awkward clearing of the throat, Nano got to her feet. She patted Lalna's shoulder on the way past, pausing as though to say something. Instead, however, she just shook her head and continued out.

Lomadia sat down on the bed next to Panda and touched his back. He swatted at her with such speed and ferocity that the _slap_ of his fingers against her arm must have left a welt. Lomadia yelped and leapt off the bed, her wings fluffed up in indignation. She sat down on the other bed and started preening her wings, pulling out dead feathers brushing out dirt and grime.

"Maybe we should take the second room," Rythian murmured to Lalna.

Panda jammed the pillow over his head again and went right on sobbing. Eventually, Rythian excused himself, feeling inept, idiotic, and utterly useless.


	47. Chapter 46

"All right," Nano said, sitting down on one of the beds. "I think it's about time we started looking for Nilesy."

"Why?" Panda asked, his chin resting on his forearm, his gaze unfocused as he stared out the window.

"Well—because," said Nano. "Because he's our friend, and—and because—"

"He walked out," Panda said, his voice flat. "He walked away. We've got no right to drag him back. He won't want to come back. I don't blame him."

A measure of silence followed the words. Panda continued to stare out the window, not wanting to see the looks the others were exchanging behind his back.

"That . . . might be true," Nano admitted. "But it's been two days, and he could be. . . ."

"He's _not coming back,_ Nano," Panda said. He added under his breath, "For one reason or another."

"That's why we should find him," said Lomadia. "He might be hurt. Or—or about to hurt himself, or something. We've got to go find him, so we can help."

"No, we don't," said Panda. "We've never been any _help_ to him. We _all_ knew something was wrong, and nobody did anything to fix it!"

"I tried," Lomadia objected. "I tried, and nobody would listen to me."

"Well then you didn't try hard enough!" Panda snapped.

"Don't blame her just because you sat by and did nothing," said Nano, her voice rising.

"Get off your _fucking_ high horse, Nano," he said, as his lip curled. "Maybe I didn't do anything, but _you_ made it _worse."_

"I was trying to keep everyone _safe,"_ she said stiffly.

"Yeah, well you _succeeded_ in keeping anybody from _helping_ _!"_

"It's not her fault," Lomadia said. "I told her about it and she said we should do something but—"

"But you _didn't,"_ Panda said. _"Nobody_ did. And now Nilesy's gone and he's not coming back. Because we _all_ just fucking ignored the bullshit going on right under our fucking noses."

"Not _all_ of us. Lalna didn't know," Nano said. "They don't pick up on things like that, you can't blame them."

"I was aware that Nilesy's mental state was declining rapidly," Lalna said quietly. "I had even hypothesized that Zylus's influence was the cause of the issue. I . . . discarded the possibility. Because I trusted him."

"He manipulated all of us, Lalna," Rythian said gently. "It's Zylus. It's what he does."

"It is _not,"_ Panda snarled, tearing his gaze away from the window to glare at him.

"Then what do you call the past six months?" Nano demanded.

"I don't know. I don't know! Something was going on, something was—something _made_ him do it, or someone. It's not his fault."

"He tried to shoot you!"

"No he fucking _didn't,_ Nano! He never even drew the fucking gun!"

"Presumably, he thought he didn't _need_ to, since his _buddies_ turned up."

"And he _stopped_ _them,_ _"_ Panda retorted. "Those two—those two fucking _monsters_ were going to execute us right then and fucking there, and he _saved our lives._ I tried to _kill_ him and he saved us anyway!"

"So?"

 _"So?_ We were _all_ being manipulated, Nano! All of us, even him!"

"You have _no_ idea if that's true," Nano said.

"You don't know it isn't!"

"The _fact_ of the matter is, he lied to us, he manipulated us, and he fucked Nilesy up beyond all recognition," she snapped. "You _can't_ deny that."

"I'm not trying to!" he cried. "All I'm saying is, _we don't know the whole story._ We're just as responsible for what happened to Nilesy as Zylus is. We can't just—we can't just say he was the bad guy and walk away. We haven't earned that."

"And Nilesy has?" Nano asked.

"Yes," said Rythian, unexpectedly. "That and more."

An uncomfortable lull followed. Panda looked back out the window.

"There's no way you can twist this to make us the good guys," Panda said quietly. "There's no angle you can look at it from where the blame doesn't fall on us. We knew something was wrong with Nilesy and we didn't help. We . . . we knew something was wrong with _Zylus._ And nobody helped."

"He never asked," Nano said.

"Drowning people _can't_ ask for help," Panda said, bristling. "Does that mean everyone should just sit there and watch?"

"Why are you _so eager_ to take the blame off of him?" she said, exasperated.

"Because I stabbed my best friend twelve times in the chest and _I don't want that to be right!"_

The words rang in the silence that followed, the whole room humming like a church bell.

"Panda—" Rythian said quietly.

"I'm going out," Panda declared, getting up and stalking for the door. "Don't come after me."

It was raining outside, a steady drizzle that had him soaked to the skin in minutes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept walking, head down, shivering intermittently. His fingers itched. His fingers hadn't stopped itching in two days. It didn't matter how much he washed them. They were still covered in Zylus's blood.

His route was circuitous, meandering. He had half a mind to try and make it all the way to the hospital, sneak past security and go see Zylus, spill all his meaningless apologies at his feet. Or he could find a nice tall building, like a parking garage, something with roof access—

He walked under an awning and a few heavy drops of cold water fell on his head and the back of his neck. He shivered and hunched his shoulders and blinked the tears out of his eye. His fingertips were going numb. He half hoped Lalna had miscalculated the last insulin dose and that he was going to go low, so he could just curl up in an alley and die. They'd been doing all his calculations for him, probably because they thought he couldn't with his _flawed logic matrix_ or whatever the fuck, and he hadn't bothered to tell them to quit. It was one less thing to worry about. He needed fewer things to worry about.

Now that he thought about it, he'd made the trip to the hospital and back once already, following the ambulance with Lomadia. It hadn't even been that long of a run. If he walked, it would take a couple of hours at most, although in this weather he'd probably get frostbite and lose all his fingers and toes, but. . . .

Almost without realizing it, he started heading south, wandering his way towards any place he recognized. He hadn't been paying much attention, the first time, because there was so much else to think about. It wasn't like he could pull up a map on his phone, either, because the phones Nano had gotten for them were useless bricks.

It took an hour or so, but eventually he ended up on a road that was, ever so slightly, familiar. He followed it for another hour, heading southeast, freezing and wet and fuzzy-headed. He had to walk by the side of the road in most places, so his feet were soaked. The old fear started to catch up with him, the faint nausea at the numbness in his toes. Maybe if he just stepped out in front of one of the cars that came whizzing past, he wouldn't have to deal with it, wouldn't have to worry anymore. . . .

He found himself standing in front of a red brick building, parts of it run down and partially swallowed by ivy. There was a big awning over an automatic sliding glass door. Faintly, he could see a blue sign over the door, although he couldn't read it. He trudged through the freezing gutter water and came up under the awning, if for no other reason than to get out of the rain for a while. He wiped the rain off his face and rubbed his eye.

 _The Leeds Teaching Hospitals: NHS Trust._ _ **Welcome to Chapel Allerton Hospital,**_ the sign read. There were caduceuses etched into the doors, and little blue signs with an emblem combining a capital _P_ and an exclamation point. In very small text at the bottoms of the signs, there was a brief message.

 _This_ _establishment_ _serves Powered._

Panda stood under the awning for a good five minutes. He could see his breath, and his limbs were starting to get weak and shaky. He didn't have any way of identifying himself to the front desk, had no idea what the procedure was for something like this. Although he'd been to the ICU before, he was usually on the other side of this particular equation.

Eventually, he gathered himself and went inside.

It wasn't much warmer, and he was immediately conscious of how much water he was dripping on the floor. There was a little desk with two women behind it, both of whom were on the phone. There was a waiting room with several people sitting in hard plastic chairs. There were a couple of children playing listlessly with the generic toys left out for them. One had patches of thick fur sprouting all over her like inverse mange. She didn't seem bothered by it, but more than one of the adults was staring at her.

"Can I help you, dear?"

Panda snapped out of his reverie and unclenched his fists. He ducked his head and cleared his throat, stepping up to the desk. One of the women was watching him with watery eyes, a pleasant and vacant smile on her face.

"Um, maybe," he said. "I've—I've got a friend in the ICU. I was hoping I could . . . visit him. Um."

"Oh yes, of course. What was the name?" She put her hands on her keyboard, watching him expectantly.

"Um—m-mine, or. . . ?"

"The patient's, dear."

"Zy—um, Zachary Lucas," said Panda. His heart was in his throat, choking him up. Nano hadn't mentioned whether they'd admitted him under his real name, in case someone came looking. Maybe someone _had_ come looking, or maybe he'd died while Panda was wandering around like an idiot, or maybe—

"Looks like Mr. Lucas has been okayed for visitors," said the woman, tapping a few keys. "And your name, dear?"

"Uh," said Panda. "Um. C-Cochrane. Johnathan."

"Cochrane, Co-chrane, let's see. . . ." she said, typing. "Ah! Here you are, _John,_ that'd be you. Have you got any ID on you, dear?"

"No," said Panda, his heart dropping into his stomach. "Sorry, I—sorry. I'll just—"

"No no, not to worry, dear, we'll just look you up, shall we?"

"Look me up—where?"

"Employer? School, maybe? I'm sure someone's got records of you."

"Oh," said Panda. "Er, yeah. I was—I mean, I _am_ a student. At the—University of Nevada. Las Vegas."

The woman whistled, typing. "Long ways off. How's the weather out there? Is it nice?"

"It's, um . . . hot," said Panda. "And really dry."

"Sounds nice about now. And what's the school for? Not gambling, I hope. Unless you're running the house!"

"No, it's—it's English Literature," said Panda.

"Hm," said the woman. "Here you are, got your picture and everything." She peered at him, then at the computer screen. "That's you, all right! I'll have a nurse come down and take you up. If you could just wait over there."

"Thanks," said Panda, blinking. "I'll—thanks."

Still reeling, he moved away from the desk. His shoes squelched on the polished floors. He sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, dripping and shivering. Several of the adults gave him nasty looks. The girl with the furry patches was staring in open-mouthed awe at his eyepatch. He waved to her. She ducked her head and looked away.

Eventually the shaking in his hands got so bad that he had to go find a vending machine. He realized, when he got there, that he had no money. He hung his head and sighed, rubbing at his forehead, cursing himself silently.

There was a tug at his sleeve. He looked down to see the girl, looking up at him through yellow, square-pupilled eyes. She held up two pound coins in her palm.

"You can have it," she said.

"No, you haven't got to—" he said.

"You're all wet," she said. "Dad said I could buy some." She thrust the money at him. "They've got chewy candies. Can I have the pink ones?"

Panda blinked at her, then carefully accepted the coins. He slotted them in and selected a pack of chewy candies. Once he'd gotten it out, he cracked it open and picked out all the pink ones. There were three.

"Here," he said.

"Thanks," the girl said, taking them from him. "Bye."

She unwrapped one of the candies, popped it in her mouth, and walked away. Panda watched her go, bewildered. By the time he got back to the waiting room, she was gone, presumably with her father.

A few minutes later, a nurse came out and called his name. Panda followed him up to the first floor, Room 144.

"He's been in and out since last night," the nurse said. "You're welcome to stay until eight, when visiting hours end."

"Okay," said Panda. His palms were sweating. He couldn't breathe properly. "Thanks."

The nurse opened the door for him. Panda blinked back his tears, swallowed down his fear, and stepped up to the threshold.

The room was small, dim, the curtains drawn across the window. There was a good deal of beeping and hissing and whirring from all the various machines. It smelled powerfully of antiseptic. It was cold. Panda's bones had turned to jelly, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Zylus was lying in the hospital bed, very pale and very still. There was an oxygen mask over his face, tubes in both arms, wires leading off his chest and elbows and at least one finger. Panda held his breath, watching for the rise and fall of the chest, listening to the beep of the heart monitor. Even so, even if he was alive, there was no guaranteeing he was awake, no guaranteeing he would ever wake up again. Even if he did, he might not be himself anymore, blighted by the cruel whims of blood loss. Panda swallowed, worrying the hem of his shirt. He slipped into the room, quietly, carefully. The door clicked closed behind him as the nurse left.

Zylus turned his head and Panda's own heart stopped, his whole body locked up with terror and guilt.

The corner of Zylus's mouth turned up.

"Shup, Shpeedy," he croaked.

Panda burst into tears and darted across the room, grabbed up one of Zylus's hands and squeezed it until Zylus made a pained little noise and he was forced to rein himself in.

"I'm sorry," he blubbered, weeping and snotty and trembling. "God, Zy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be," Zylus said. His voice was terribly weak. "I jusht . . . wish you'd done it shooner. Hah."

"Oh, _God,_ Zy," Panda cried, wanting nothing more than to snatch him up into a hug. He scrubbed at his own face instead, trying to wipe away the tears and snot. Both kept flowing regardless.

"Get—get a tissue," Zylus said. He was still trying to smile, like it was hard to muster the energy to do it. Panda bustled about, cleaning himself up. The last thing he wanted to do was expose Zylus to any germs, in his condition.

He eventually managed to get himself under control, and ended up just sitting at Zylus's bedside holding his hand, stroking it with his thumb.

"What _happened?"_ he asked at last.

Zylus sighed and shut his eyes.

"You don't—you haven't got to answer now, I just—" Panda said.

"No, I want to," said Zylus. "In cashe . . . I don't get the chanshe. Later."

"Don't talk like that," Panda admonished, tears rising to his eye again.

That pained little smile flicked across Zylus's face again.

"Shorry," he said. He sighed again. "You remember when . . . I went to kill Lalnable? When the resht of you were. . . ."

"Fighting the robots? Yeah," said Panda.

"I . . . got caught," said Zylus. "Gray and Robin. They knew . . . everything. Everything about ush. About me. About what we were trying to. . . ."

"That's what took so long," Panda realized. "That's why it took you so long to get back."

"They wanted ush to kill the Board," he said. "They wanted YogLabsh. They made sure no one came after ush, but . . . I had to make sure we came back. I tried to put it off, but . . . they knew where we were. They would have shent the Division. I had to."

"Is that why you—why Nilesy—"

"They knew Shtrife wash looking for ush," said Zylus. "Probably knew hish shearch criteria, with the drowningsh. I didn't figure out what they were doing until it wash too late. I had to do what they told me, or. . . ."

"They would've sent the Division," Panda repeated for him.

Zylus's voice was growing more choked, more hoarse. He was trembling. "I kept hoping—I kept—"

He broke off, choked up and teary eyed. Panda just held his hand, waiting.

"I kept looking for a way out," Zylus whispered. "But there washn't one. I kept waiting for a moment to—to . . . but it never came, and I—and—Jeshush, Panda, the thingsh I _did_ to him. . . ."

Panda said nothing. Zylus's face was scrunched up with pain. He was clutching Panda's hand weakly.

"All I ever wanted wash to be a hero," he said at last, aching and quiet and hollow. "All I ever wanted wash. . . . Wash that sho much to—I fucked it up _sho bad,_ Panda, I. . . ."

Panda picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"You did," he said. "You'll fix it. We'll fix it. You'll get there. Hey, you're already part of the way there. If you hadn't started off so far in the negatives, you'd be a hero now."

"Are you sure I have . . . that much time left?" he asked, his voice quavering.

"Yes," said Panda. "You're going to be fine, Zy."

Zylus didn't answer. A dreadful apprehension crept up on Panda. He squeezed Zylus's hand again.

"Hey," he murmured. "You still there?"

"My Powersh are gone," he said quietly. Panda's jaw dropped, and he stared at Zylus, agape.

"Th—no," he said. "I-it's probably just the—the painkillers, or—or you're just—"

"Brain damage, from blood lossh," said Zylus. "Trusht me. They're gone."

"Zy," he said, aching.

"It could have been worshe," he said lightly. "I could be . . . it could be worshe."

"That doesn't make it not bad," Panda said. "God, Zy, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry—"

"I'm glad," said Zylus, cracking that weak little smile again. "I can't—I can't ever do to anybody elshe what I did to Nileshy. I can't do it anymore. Nobody can—can _ushe_ me like that again. No matter what happensh. I'm glad. I'm _glad._ All that fucking time I shpent looking for a mute button. . . . Thank you."

"For—for stabbing you a dozen times?" Panda asked weakly.

Zylus looked at him. His eyes were glassy, unfocused.

"Yeah," he said.

Panda swallowed. He looked away.

"I should . . . I should go. You probably need your rest."

Weakly, Zylus squeezed his hand.

"Don't," he said. "Pleashe. Shtay. Pleashe, jusht. . . ."

Panda looked down at him, pale and weak and tear-stained.

"They'll have to drag me out," he said.

* * *

 

At some point later, Panda's phone started buzzing. Zylus had drifted off to sleep an hour ago, but Panda was still loath to leave him. He got up and went to the window before answering.

"Hi," he said.

 _"Where the hell are you?"_ Nano demanded. There was more of fear than fury in her voice.

"I'm . . . at the hospital," Panda said. "With—with Zy."

There was a moment of silence. Nano drew a slow breath.

"He's . . . we talked a bit," Panda mentioned.

_"You did?"_

"Well, yeah. I mean . . . yeah." He shrugged. "He's not conscious right now. They've got him on all sorts of machines and drips and whatever."

Again, there was a silence.

 _"I'm on my way there,"_ Nano declared. There was the sound of movement. Faintly, he could hear Lomadia saying something.

"You haven't got to," Panda said. "I'm staying with him until they kick me out."

 _"If he can talk, he can explain,"_ Nano said harshly. Her voice moved away from the phone as she said, _"Rythian, Lal, stay here in case Nilesy turns up. Lom, let's go see Zylus."_

"You can't _interrogate_ him," Panda said, his ire rising. "He's barely alive, Nano, fuck's sake! I'll tell you what he told me, if you've _got_ to have a story, but—"

_"I'm sorry, Panda, but I don't trust a word he says, and I certainly don't trust it secondhand."_

"Then why are you even _coming?"_ he asked, exasperated. "If you won't believe anything he tells you, why even _ask?"_

For a moment, she didn't answer. Panda fancied he could hear her grinding her teeth.

 _"Lom wants to talk to you,"_ she said. There was a fumbling noise.

 _"Panda?"_ said Lomadia.

"Hi," said Panda.

_"So he's not dead?"_

Panda looked over his shoulder. The heart monitor was still beeping. Zylus's chest was still rising and falling.

"No," said Panda. "He's not dead."

 _"Good,"_ said Lomadia. _"He said stuff to you? Did he say why?"_

"He . . . yeah," said Panda. "I mean he wasn't . . . super lucid, but like. . . ."

_"Lucid?"_

"Thinking clearly," he said. "I guess it had something to do with those two doctors from YogLabs. They . . . threatened him. Made him do stuff. To . . . to Nilesy."

 _"Oh,"_ said Lomadia. _"Like, they were mind-controlling him, or. . . ?"_

"I don't . . . I don't think so, Lom, no," Panda said. Something heavy settled in his stomach, a discomfort crawled up his spine. "I think they threatened to hurt us if he didn't do whatever they said. So . . . he just did whatever they said. Even when it was . . . horrible."

Lomadia made an unhappy noise. _"Maybe I should come anyway,"_ she said. _"I can stay with him because my head's the quietest."_

It hit Panda unexpectedly, like a punch in the throat. For a moment he couldn't say anything at all. He swallowed. He rubbed his face.

"Lom. . . ." he began, and trailed off.

_"What? Your head's too fast and loud, he doesn't like it. Especially when he's already hurting, it's—"_

"Lom."

_"What?"_

He took a deep breath. He let it out slowly.

"He . . . hasn't got Powers anymore," he said quietly.

 _"Of course he's still got Powers,"_ Lomadia said, offended.

"No, Lom, he hasn't," Panda said, a lump rising in his throat. "They're . . . they're gone. From blood loss. He bled too much and it—it killed bits of his brain and now he hasn't got his Powers anymore, and it's my—it's—"

He couldn't speak anymore. He was trembling. A tear slid down his cheek. He was clutching the phone so hard it was making the plastic creak.

 _"You killed his Powers?"_ Lomadia asked, soft and unutterably horrified.

Panda hung up before he burst into tears on the phone. They tried to call him back, but he didn't answer. He curled up in the corner and sobbed.

Zylus stayed still and quiet, hovering on a knife-edge between alive and dead. He did not wake again, not even when a pair of nurses came in and asked Panda to leave while they performed their routine care. Panda hovered in the corridor until the nurses came out and allowed him back in.

He went back to sit at the bedside, took Zylus's hand again and held it, being careful not to disturb the wires or the tubes. His skin was cold and papery. His breathing was all wrong.

"I'm so sorry, Zy," Panda murmured to him, unsure if he hoped Zylus could hear or not. "I'm so, so sorry. . . ."


	48. Chapter 47

Lomadia sat hunched on the roof, cold and wet and brooding. They hadn't let her in the front door of the hospital because she hadn't had ID and they hadn't been able to look her up anywhere. There wasn't any good place to hide from the rain up on top of the hospital, but if she'd gone into the trees someone would probably have seen her and called the police, thinking she was spying. Not knowing what else to do, but not wanting to leave, she tented her wings above her to keep the rain off and called Nano.

 _"Yes, sweetheart?"_ Nano answered, on only the second ring.

"I'm at the hospital," said Lomadia. "They wouldn't let me in."

 _"Christ's sake,"_ Nano muttered. _"D'you want me to come down? I'm sure they'll let me in, I was in the ambulance in the first place. I'm sure they'd let you in with me."_

"Will that take long?" Lomadia asked.

_"I don't know. I can check if there's a bus or something."_

She wrinkled her nose. "I guess you could. I think I could probably just call Panda and get him to open the window for me."

 _"I'm . . . not sure that's a fantastic idea, Lom,"_ Nano said. _"It might look a bit suspicious."_

"I'd wait until nighttime," said Lomadia. "I'm not _stupid."_

 _"I think that might be a bit of a long wait,"_ said Nano. _"It's just now half three, you'll be up there for another . . . four hours at least."_

Lomadia made a face. "Maybe you should come, then," she said. "Or I can just go in now and not care what anybody sees or thinks."

 _"It's not like I'm doing anything,"_ said Nano.

"It's not like anybody's watching, either, though," said Lomadia, looking out over the rain-grayed landscape. "If I was really quick, I could do it without anybody noticing."

Nano sighed. _"I'm just going to . . . trust your judgement on this one, sweetheart. If you want me to come, I'll come. If not, then I'll work out something to do here."_

Lomadia chewed it over for a moment before making her decision.

"I'm going to call Panda and see if he can let me in," she said. "If he can't, then I'll call you and you can come down and let me in through the front."

_"Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Will you call me back anyway, just so I know you're all right?"_

"Sure," said Lomadia.

_"Okay, thank you. I love you."_

"Love you too. Bye."

_"Bye."_

Lomadia hung up, then immediately called Panda. He took a good while longer to answer, and when he did, his voice was soft, subdued.

 _"Hello?"_ he said.

"Hi, it's me," said Lomadia. "I'm up on the roof. Can you open the window and let me in?"

There was a moment of silence.

She added, "They wouldn't let me in through the front because I didn't have ID."

 _"I . . . I guess,"_ said Panda. _"I'm not sure this window's big enough for you to fit through."_

"Could _you_ fit through it?"

_"Yeah, sure."_

"Then I can fit through it. Does it open?"

 _"Hang on a sec,"_ he said. There was a too-loud _thunk_ and some shuffling noises. She could hear him muttering to himself, and then there was a _click._ She didn't hear it echoed outside the phone, so she figured she wasn't anywhere near Zylus's room. There was some more shuffling, and Panda spoke again.

 _"Yeah, it opens,"_ he said. _"All the way, I think."_

"Good," she said. "Which window is it?"

_"Lom, I have literally no way to answer that."_

"Well, what floor is it on?"

_"First."_

"And what do you see when you look out the window?"

He paused. _"Trees, mostly."_

"So not the road?"

_"No, we're not on the side with the road. I think we're probably on the opposite side, because I can't really hear it, either."_

"You can't hear anything anyway," Lomadia said. She got up and paced to the opposite side of the roof, listening.

 _"Yeah, well, that tends to fucking happen when you get a gun shot off right next to your fucking head,"_ Panda snapped.

She heard his voice faintly through her other ear, slightly before the echo in the phone. She leaned out over the edge of the roof and peered down. She saw the open window, hung up, and hopped down. She stuck close to the wall, staying between the other windows as much as she could, only darkening them with her wings momentarily as she slowed her descent. She grabbed the windowsill and stuffed herself inside, although it was a tight fit and she scraped her wings on the inside of the window. She unfolded again inside the little hospital room and shook out her wings, her hair.

 _"Ack!_ Goddammit, Lom, don't _do_ that in here!" Panda snapped, darting away from her with his hands upraised. He was freckled with water droplets, as were the floor, ceiling, and walls.

Zylus was lying in his bed, too still, too pale, too quiet.

Lomadia went to him, wordless. Behind her, she heard Panda close the window.

"He looks really bad," she said softly. As gently as she could, she touched his forehead, pushed back the few strands of hair that had fallen there. There were dark, dark circles under his eyes. His cheeks were hollow, his lips pale. He wasn't breathing right. She couldn't hear the sound of his heart in his chest, not over the beeping and hissing and whirring and dripping of all the machines.

Panda came up next to her, looking down at Zylus.

"Yeah," he said, and that was it.

Lomadia turned her head to look at him. His jaw was tight, his eye wet with tears. He wasn't breathing right, either.

"It's not your fault," she said.

"Of course it's my fault, Lom," said Panda, sharp as his own knives.

"You didn't know he wasn't bad," she said. "He seemed really bad. He did so many bad things, and then those doctors came and they were horrible and he was going to go with them. It's not your fault. I probably would've hurt him, too."

"But you didn't," said Panda. _"I_ did."

Lomadia shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back. She fluffed her wings.

"But you didn't know," she repeated, because he clearly wasn't getting it.

"Lom, I'd wanted to stab him for _weeks,"_ Panda said bitterly. "It was an _excuse._ It was—it was just—"

He broke off, turned away. She frowned.

"I've got to call Nano and tell her I'm okay," she said at last.

The conversation was quick, and to the point. Zylus was still unconscious when she hung up. Panda was over on the other side of the room, fiddling with stuff.

"Is he angry with you?" Lomadia asked him.

"Lom—" Panda began, and sighed. He hung his head. "No. He said . . . he said he wished I'd done it sooner."

Lomadia took a slow breath. She regarded Zylus for a moment.

"He told me he didn't want this," she said.

"What?" said Panda. "When?"

"After we all got burned. When he had that migraine. He said _whatever happens, I didn't want this._ He thought he was going to die. I told him it was only a migraine and he wouldn't die, but maybe he wasn't talking about the migraine, after all."

"And you didn't think of that until _just now?"_ Panda demanded.

She drew herself up, glaring at him, preparing a sharper retort, when Zylus stirred.

It was just a little hitch in his breath, a tiny turn of the head, but it was enough to derail her completely. She went and sat on the chair at his bedside, rearranged the blankets a little so they'd be more comfortable. Panda stayed on the other side of the room, being quiet.

Zylus's eyes fluttered open. They weren't focused, like he was still mostly asleep. He shifted a little more, then eventually turned his head and saw her. She smiled at him.

"Hi," she said.

His eyebrows pulled together, just a little, like he didn't recognize her. His eyes focused, slowly. One of his hands twitched, feeble. He tried to take a deeper breath and the confusion on his face was replaced by pain. She touched his shoulder, petting the coarse fabric of his hospital gown.

"It's me," she said, in case he couldn't tell. "It's Lomadia. You're in hospital. It's okay."

"Where. . . ?" he mumbled, like he hadn't heard her.

"In hospital," she repeated.

"No—Gray and Robin, where—?"

She frowned. "I don't know who that is."

His face scrunched up with pain again and, to her horror, he tried to sit up. She put both hands on his shoulders and held him down, firmly.

"Don't do that, you're hurt, you're really badly hurt," she said, an edge of panic in her voice. From the way his breathing had gone all shallow and quick and the way his face had gotten waxy, he didn't really need to be told.

"I can't—you're not—why can't I—" He was getting desperate, frightened. The beeping machine was beeping faster, too fast for her liking.

Panda hurried over and took Zylus's hand.

"Zy, hey, it's me, it's Panda," he said, his voice low and calm. "Your Powers are gone, Zy. That's why you can't hear anything. It's blood loss. Your Powers are gone. Those two YogLabs doctors are dead, you killed them."

"I— _no,_ I—you're _not—"_ Zylus insisted. There were tears in his eyes. He kept trying to struggle, weak as a baby bird, and kept stopping himself with winces and gasps.

"I'm going to get someone, keep him from hurting himself," Panda said. He dashed off in a blur, leaving the door to drift closed behind him. Lomadia kept holding Zylus down, but he kept struggling, trying to swat at her even though there were all the tubes and needles in his arms.

"Pleashe," he gasped, terrified. "Pleashe, don't—pleashe, I don't—you're not—you're _not—"_

"It's okay," she told him, sick to her stomach and frightened and helpless. "It's okay, it's okay. . . ."

The door was flung open and two nurses rushed in, trailed by Panda.

"Move," one said, shoving Lomadia out of the way. Zylus tried to roll out of his bed and the nurse caught him and held him much more firmly than Lomadia had been.

"Mr. Lucas, I need you to calm down," said the nurse. The other was already getting something out of a drawer, drawing clear fluid into a syringe. Zylus was frantic, weeping, his words an incoherent babble punctuated by gasps of pain.

"What are you doing?" Panda demanded, stepping forward.

"Saving his life, sir," the nurse said laconically. They stuck the syringe into one of the tubes that was feeding into Zylus. In seconds, he wound down, stilled. His eyes drifted shut. The beeping got much slower. Panda stood there shivering, looking between the two nurses and Zylus.

"Is he okay?" Lomadia asked, worrying at one of her pinions. "What's wrong with him, why did he do that?"

The first nurse turned to her, while the other continued bustling about.

"Confusion isn't uncommon," they said, "especially in the first few days. We've given him a mild sedative, which should hold him until the next round of pain meds kick in. I'm afraid he's probably not going to come conscious again before visiting hours are over."

"He wasn't like that, last time," Panda said, gesturing weakly to Zylus. His voice was thin, fragile. "He was—he was pretty much lucid, we had a conversation and everything. Is it—is it getting worse? Is he—"

"Like I said," the nurse said gently, "not uncommon. I wouldn't put too much weight on it."

"But he's going to be all right," said Lomadia. "Isn't he?"

The nurse gave her a pitying look.

"It's difficult to say at this point," they said.

"But he woke up," said Panda. "He was awake, and talking, and everything. That's _got_ to be a good sign, right? I mean, if he was going to—if he wasn't going to make it, he'd just be, like, comatose. Clinging to life or whatever. Right?"

"I can't say for certain," said the nurse. "I'm not overly familiar with his case in particular."

Panda clenched his jaw and his fists, lifted his chin defiantly.

"He'll make it," he said, choked up.

The nurse didn't argue. Eventually, they and their partner left, and Panda and Lomadia were alone in the room again. Slowly, Lomadia drifted over and sat in the chair by Zylus's bed. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead.

"Did he say why?" she asked eventually.

"Because if he'd tried to fight, they would've sent the Division after us," said Panda.

She frowned. "But we could've fought the Division. We did. The Division came and he didn't stop, even afterwards. He kept lying and he kept hurting Nilesy, too. Why?"

"I don't know, Lom," Panda said, annoyed. "He didn't mention it, in the ten fucking minutes he was awake."

Lomadia looked up at him. He was getting that flushed, swollen look.

"I think you're high," she said.

"I am _not,"_ he snapped.

"I think you probably are," she said.

"Oh, like you know so much fucking better than me when my blood sugar's high," he said, rolling his eye.

"You can go get your medicine. It's okay, I'll stay with Zylus."

"I don't need to. I'm fine."

"If you ran you could be back in like, probably half an hour. I'm sure they'd let you back in. Maybe you could get medicine here, since it's a hospital."

"Will you _shut the fuck up_ about—" Panda started, and stopped himself. He scrubbed at his face, turning away. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. . . ."

"I forgive you," said Lomadia.

Out of nowhere, Panda sank to the floor and started crying. Lomadia recoiled, startled. She looked between Zylus and Panda, then carefully got up and went to sit on the floor next to Panda. She put an arm around his shoulders and folded one wing around him. He buried his face in her shoulder and clutched her shirt, shivering where he sat.

"I know," she said softly, petting his arm with her thumb. "I know."

* * *

 

As the nurse had predicted, Zylus didn't wake up again before visiting hours were over. Lomadia had finally convinced Panda to go home and take his medicine, while she had stayed with Zylus. Panda didn't come back, but he at least texted her to let her know that he hadn't been kidnapped or anything. It had gotten dark outside by the time some other nurse came by and told Lomadia, gently but firmly, that it was time to leave. She was ushered out through the side door and told she could return the next morning at eleven. She was half-tempted to hide up on the roof for a few minutes and then sneak back in through the window, just in case Zylus woke up again during the night, but she was starving, and hadn't seen Nano all day, and should probably go home.

The flight back was, at the very least, better than the flight in. It had finally stopped raining, and the skies were starting to clear. The moon peeked down at her from the tattered clouds, a crescent smile that wasn't too bright. Lomadia took her time getting back. It was nice to have no company but the wind, at least for a little while.

She snuck in through the back door of the inn, slipped up to the room without encountering anyone. She could hear Lalna and Rythian talking quietly in the second, smaller room down the corridor. She went into the bigger room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Nano was sitting on one of the beds, leafing through a magazine. Panda was in the armchair, doodling on a little notepad.

"Hey, sweetheart," Nano said, as Lomadia came in. Lomadia went over and kissed her, then peered at the magazine.

"Hey," she said. "What's that?"

"I'm looking for someplace to get food," said Nano. "Nobody much feels like making anything or going anywhere, but almost nothing delivers all the way out here."

"Hm," said Lomadia. She looked over at Panda. He was scowling at his little notepad, the pen scratching hard against the paper.

Nano followed her gaze, leaning out a little. She touched Lomadia's arm, gently.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Zylus?" said Lomadia. "He was still asleep when I left."

Nano nodded, clenching her jaw and frowning.

"Good," she said tightly. "Well. That's good. I suppose."

Panda made a disgusted noise and ripped off the sheet of paper he was drawing on. He tossed it aside and it wafted over to Lomadia's side of the room. It was covered entirely in black scribbles, drawn so heavily that in some places the paper had ripped.

"Panda," Nano began, then reined herself in. "Why don't you go ask Rythian whether he'd rather have pizza or sandwiches."

Panda sat perfectly still for a second, then got up and stormed out. He slammed the door behind him.

"My vote's for sandwiches," Lomadia said helpfully.

"I—good, thank you, sweetheart," Nano said. "What—I'm sorry, but what _happened?_ Panda won't talk about it, but it's obvious _something's_ wrong, and I need to know."

"Oh," said Lomadia. She straightened up, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I dunno. Zylus woke up for a bit. It was—scary. Bad. He was all confused, like he didn't know who I was or what was going on or anything. They had to put him to sleep so he wouldn't hurt himself."

"God," Nano muttered, shaking her head. "Well. That explains some things."

Lomadia hesitated, then asked carefully, "Have you heard from Nilesy?"

Nano gave her a sad look. "No," she said. "Nothing yet."

"Oh," she said again, worrying at her pinions. "Okay."

There was a lull that was not as comfortable as usual.

"I'm . . . sorry, sweetheart," Nano said. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm—I'm sorry I didn't do anything. Maybe—maybe none of this would've happened if—"

"It's not your fault," Lomadia said. "It was those doctors, I think. They made him do all that awful stuff. He made it so we wouldn't stop him, by saying stuff. I think they turned off bits of his brain, like how they made it so we couldn't move. I think they made it so he was awful. He could see in our heads, so he always knew what to say to make us not stop him. That's probably why they got him to do all this stuff. Because he could just talk and make us not stop him."

Nano was about to reply, looking pained, when the door opened again and Rythian, Lalna, and Panda all filed in.

"Sandwiches," said Panda, before going back to his chair and throwing himself into it and picking up right where he'd left off with the scribbling.

"I can place the order, if everyone will tell me what they want," Lalna said.

"Sure," said Nano. "Here, they've got a menu in this pamphlet thing. . . ."

Lomadia watched her closely, but she gave no indication of what she'd been about to say.

* * *

 

It started raining again about when the sandwiches got there, droplets tapping politely against the windows. The five of them all sat around eating, some on the beds, some on the floor. Nobody said much.

"I think I'll take a shift tomorrow," Nano declared at last, wiping the final crumbs from her fingers. "If anybody wants to come with me, that's fine, or we can just trade off."

"No thanks," Rythian said darkly.

"I'd prefer to stay here, in case Nilesy returns," Lalna said, their arm around Rythian's shoulders.

"I'll go," Panda said.

"You haven't got to," said Nano. "You spent practically the whole day there today—"

"I'll _go,"_ Panda repeated. "Unless you don't _want_ me to, which I bet you don't. I'm not going to let you interrogate him without anybody watching."

"Oh for _fuck's_ sake," Nano said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I'm going to _hurt_ him, Panda. I just don't trust him. Which, I think, is perfectly justified, under the circumstances!"

"What the fuck d'you think he's going to do?" he demanded. "He's half dead, Nano, he can't _hurt_ anybody!"

"He can still talk, can't he?" she said dryly.

"Yeah, and? So what?"

"So we don't know _what_ the hell he did to Nilesy. We can't—"

"You don't give a _fuck_ about Nilesy!" Panda interrupted. "You've _never_ given a fuck about Nilesy!"

"That is _not_ true," said Nano.

"Actually it sort of is," said Lomadia. Nano glared at her and she shrugged. "You mostly just liked to pretend he wasn't there, unless he was causing problems."

"I've never _liked_ him," Nano said carefully. "That doesn't mean I never _cared._ Of course I _cared."_

"Well you sure as fuck didn't show it," said Panda. "And it's too fucking late now, because he's probably dead in a _ditch_ out there somewhere—"

The doorknob rattled. It had been locked.

Panda leapt to his feet, his hand going to the knife on his hip. Rythian scrambled to get between Lalna and the door, sparks crackling in his hair. Nano took Lomadia's hand as the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway, soaked to the skin and pale and shivering, fists clenched at his sides, was Nilesy. Panda stood there frozen, his eye wide and his breath held. Nano gripped Lomadia's hand, squeezing too tight, and Rythian straightened like he wanted to move but couldn't. Lomadia just watched, waiting, not sure if Nilesy was angry or sad or frightened, not sure if the slightest noise would send him scurrying back into the night like a mouse.

Lalna got up, moving slowly, and crossed to him. They made as though to embrace him, then stopped, pulling back. Their face was pinched with concern, their eyes a pale purple.

"Hello, you," they said.

Slowly, Nilesy tilted forward until he impacted against Lalna with a wet _thwap._ They folded their arms around him, holding him close while he shivered and sniffled.

"I am glad you are all right," they said quietly, their voice heavy with emotion.

"I'll . . . make some tea," Nano said. She got up and moved to the coffee machine that had come with the room, bustling about while constantly glancing over her shoulder at Nilesy and Lalna.

The water was about halfway done gurgling through the coffee machine when Nilesy spoke.

"Is he dead?" he said, so softly that Lomadia wondered if the others could even hear him.

Nano looked back over her shoulder at Lomadia, who shrugged and shook her head. Rythian scratched his head, looking at the floor. Panda was just watching Nilesy, like he expected him to vanish at any moment.

"Zylus is still alive," Lalna answered, their voice gentle. "He is in the intensive care unit at Chapel Allerton Hospital. His condition is stable, but poor."

Nilesy did not say anything else. His hands hung loose at his sides, his eyes were open and unfocused, his face blank. As Nano started the tea brewing, he started to shiver harder, the kind of shivers that weren't from the cold. His hands started to clench and unclench, and his jaw got tight and his breathing got short and distressed.

"I think you should probably let him go," Lomadia mentioned to Lalna.

Carefully, they let go of him and stepped back. He stayed standing there, shivering now harder than ever. Lomadia frowned and flexed her claws, frustrated.

"Is he—" Panda began, but Rythian cut him off.

"Just . . . let him," he said gently.

Panda looked over at Rythian, distressed, and then back to Nilesy. Slowly, he sat back down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Rythian settled himself on the floor, and eventually Lalna wandered over and sat down next to him.

Nano approached Nilesy sidelong and offered him a cup of tea.

"Um," she said. "Here. If you want it."

He swallowed, staring into the middle distance. His eyes were full of tears.

"I'll just . . . leave it on the counter then," Nano said, backing away. She put the tea next to the coffee machine and then snuck around behind Nilesy and shut the door. He flinched when it clicked shut. He was still shivering.

Rythian sighed and got to his feet.

"Okay," he said. "Nilesy, do you want to stay in the other room? You can be by yourself, or Lalna or me or both of us can stay with you."

She watched the tension ratchet up in his spine. She could hear his heart beating, faster and faster, his breathing growing more labored. A pair of tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Right," Rythian sighed, scratching the back of his head. "First days out. Right."

He walked up to Nilesy and gently put his hands on his shoulders. Nilesy stood there shivering and silent, struggling to breathe.

"We're going to go into the other room now," Rythian said, his voice still soft, but with an undertone of command. "Someone is going to bring your tea. You don't have to drink it, but it will be there."

Jerkily, Nilesy nodded. Rythian turned him around and led him from the room. Lomadia darted to the counter, picked up the cup of tea, and followed.

Rythian took Nilesy into the other room, stood him near the bed and wiped the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs. Lomadia put the tea on the nightstand, hovering and awkward.

"Do you want us to leave, Nilesy?" Rythian asked.

Nilesy's only answer was to clutch Rythian's shirt in both hands, holding so tight it turned his knuckles white.

"Okay," said Rythian. Nilesy bent his head like he was trying to rest it on Rythian's shoulder, but he was too far away. Rythian stepped into the gesture, and Nilesy sucked in a sharp and shivering breath, trembling harder than ever.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . ."

Rythian looked down at him, drawing him into a careful embrace. Even with the mask covering half his face, he looked _furious._

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said gently, petting Nilesy's hair. _"Nothing."_

Nilesy just stood there and cried, shaking his head, murmuring the same words over and over again in a broken, helpless voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . ."


	49. Chapter 48

Nano knocked lightly on the door of the smaller room, guilt and dread sharing equal space in her stomach.

"Nilesy?" she called. "Is it all right if I come in?"

There was only silence from within. Nano tried the knob. It was unlocked.

"I'm . . . going to come in," she announced. "I'm sorry. I just want to make sure you're . . . not dead."

Again, there was no answer, so she opened the door and stepped inside.

The curtains were drawn, the lights out. Nilesy was lying in bed, flat on his back on top of the covers, pale and unmoving. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Nano's heart skipped a beat, but then she saw his chest rise with slow breath.

"I, um," she began, sheepish.

"Go get Lomadia," Nilesy said, unmoving.

"I'm . . . sorry?" Nano said.

"Go and get Lomadia," he repeated, "and _then_ you can talk to me. I'm not speaking to _anyone_ alone."

Nano stared at him, her heart aching in her chest.

"All right," she said softly. She turned, hesitated, and then went back to the main room. Lomadia was perched on the back of the armchair, curled up small and worried. Rythian sat up as Nano came back in. Panda and Lalna looked to her as she entered.

"Is he—" Panda began, his voice shaking.

"He's breathing," Nano assured him. "Lom, he—he wants you to be there."

"Why?" Lomadia asked.

"He's not . . . um, speaking to anyone alone," Nano said, deeply uncomfortable.

Lomadia made a face and then got up off the back of the chair. Nano offered her arm, and Lomadia took it, gripping tightly.

"Thank you," Nano said. Together, the two of them went back to the smaller room.

He was still lying just as she'd left him, staring up at the ceiling, pale and taut.

"Hey," she said. "I've brought Lom."

Wordless, Nilesy held out a hand. Nano looked at Lomadia, and Lomadia looked back, puzzled. Nano shrugged, then tipped her head towards Nilesy.

Slowly, Lomadia crossed the room and put her hand in his. Nilesy squeezed so hard his knuckles popped, until Lomadia made a pained noise. Then he let her go and allowed his arm to fall back to his side.

"Say whatever you're going to say," he said, toneless.

"Well, um," Nano said. "I was . . . I _was_ just going to ask what you wanted for breakfast, but um. . . . After all this, I feel like maybe I should make it something more important."

He didn't respond. She fidgeted. Lomadia hugged herself, looking away from him.

"I'm sorry," Nano said, and the words dragged a lump into her throat and tears into her eyes, caved her chest in with deep pressure. "I'm sorry nobody stopped it. I'm sorry nobody said anything, or did anything, or—or _anything._ I'm sorry _I_ didn't help you, even though I _knew_ something was wrong. I am _so sorry,_ Nilesy. And I know it's unforgivable, but . . . if there's anything, _anything_ I can do to help you _now,_ I will. No questions asked. I swear it."

"I'm . . . I'm sorry too," Lomadia said. "I tried. I really tried. But not hard enough. I knew he was doing awful things and I didn't stop him. I'm really sorry. I'm really, _really_ sorry."

He said nothing. His jaw had clenched, and his eyes were gleaming with tears. Lomadia turned away, sniffling, and shuffled her way back to Nano's side. Nano took her arm, gentle.

"We'll just go," Nano said gently. "Let us know if you need anything."

She turned and held the door open for Lomadia.

"Ham and cheese omelet," Nilesy said suddenly.

Nano blinked, and turned slowly. Nilesy had not moved, his attitude unchanged.

"Sorry," she said faintly, "what?"

"For breakfast," he said. "I want a ham and cheese omelet."

"O-okay, then," Nano said. "I will . . . make sure that happens."

He made no further response, and so she ushered Lomadia out and shut the door softly behind her.

* * *

 

Lalna managed to find a place that made omelets, but it didn't deliver. They offered to go pick up breakfast for everyone, and Nano offered to come with them. The two of them headed out into a light, chilly mist, draped over the sleepy little town like gauze.

While the two of them walked, Nano glanced over at Lalna. They were still wearing that big glove on their left hand. Their eyes had settled to a practically permanent indigo.

"Lal?" she said.

"Yes?" the said, turning to her and making a politely interested face.

"Doing all right?"

They blinked. They turned away again.

"No," they said softly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

They considered for a long moment. Something was changing about the color of their eyes, but Nano couldn't quite pin it down.

"Panda was right," they said at last, and their voice was as cold as she'd ever heard it. "We are all responsible for the abuse Nilesy endured."

"Well—well, Lal, _abuse_ might be a bit harsh, I mean—"

They turned to look at her. Their eyes narrowed, reddening. She shut her mouth and dropped her gaze.

"It's not like we can go back and make it un-happen," she mumbled, kicking a rock and sending it bouncing into the street.

"We can ensure it never happens again."

"Of course," she said. "I mean, that's a bit of a given, we—"

"I am," Lalna said, very softly, "fully capable of ensuring that Zylus dies in his sleep."

Nano went cold. She stared at them, mouth open, head empty.

"I have already hacked into Chapel Allerton Hospital's systems," they went on. "I could grant myself administrator access. He was given a patient-controlled analgesia device this morning. It would be very easy to cause the device to administer a fatal overdose of fentanyl. It would only require moving a single decimal point. It would appear accidental. It would likely not even be unpleasant for him."

"Lal—" Nano whispered, horrified.

They turned to look at her again, and their eyes were a dark, grieving purple.

"I don't _want_ to kill him, Nano," they said. "But I am capable."

"I don't . . . think that'll be necessary, Lal," she said gently. "I'll—I'll see if I can talk to him, today. We'll get this figured out."

They nodded, downcast.

"I won't tell the others," they said. "I believe Panda would hate me for thinking of it. Lomadia would likely be frightened of me. I don't know what Nilesy would say. I believe . . . I believe Rythian would ask me to do it. I don't want him to ask me to do it. I wish I hadn't thought of it. It is always too easy to think of ways to kill."

She laid a hand on their arm.

"That's not just you," she said. "That's people. The important bit is not doing it _even though_ it's easy."

They ruminated on this for a time.

"Then why did we kill the Board?" they asked.

Nano couldn't answer that one.

* * *

 

By the time they made it back to the inn, the food was lukewarm at best. It was getting on towards ten o'clock, only an hour before visiting hours began at the hospital. Panda, Lomadia, and Rythian were gathered in the larger room, spread out amongst the two beds and the armchair.

"Sweetheart, could you go collect Nilesy?" Nano asked as she entered, a bag of take-away boxes in each hand. Lalna had a third bag hanging from their wrist, since they'd had to use their functioning hand to open doors for Nano.

"Sure," said Lomadia, getting to her feet. "Somebody else should come too, since he's not talking to anyone alone."

"I—I will," said Rythian, rising as well.

"Okay," said Lomadia. The two of them left, Lomadia in the lead.

Nano rifled through the boxes of food and handed Panda his. He took it, wordless, and went to sit with his back to the wall. He opened the box and started picking out individual blueberries. Nano found her own box of food, then set the others on the counter with their lids open.

"Panda, d'you still want to come with me today?" Nano asked, settling on one of the beds.

He shrugged. "Whatever. I guess." He paused, then added, "I might stay. With—y'know. With Niles."

"Understandable," said Nano.

"I could come with you if no one else is available," Lalna said.

"Sure, if you like," she said. She shifted on the bed, not looking at them. She glanced at Panda, who was still picking blueberries out of his box one by one. She turned her gaze to the door, listening. "It's taking them a while, isn't it."

"Sometimes it takes Niles a bit to get going," said Panda. "Especially since. . . ."

There was a moment of highly uncomfortable silence. Lalna started ticking their thumbs together.

"Well," Nano said. "I'm sure Lom and Rythian can handle it."

Another couple of minutes passed where no one spoke. The door finally opened again and Lomadia came in, followed by Rythian and, finally, Nilesy. He had his head down, and his face was blank. Nano got up and got his box off the counter, then handed it to him.

"Ham and cheese omelet for you," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

He stared at it for a moment, then reached up and hesitantly took the box from her.

"Thanks," he said.

"Sit anywhere you like," she said, returning to her spot on the bed. Lomadia picked up her own box of food and settled in next to Nano, folding one wing around her casually. Rythian edged around Nilesy, got his heaping box of cheesy eggs, and went to sit on the other bed. Lalna, after a moment's hesitation, sat next to him.

Nilesy stood for a moment, glancing around the room. Slowly, as though he expected to be stopped at any moment, he crossed to the nearest wall and settled down with his back against it, sitting on the floor with one knee to his chest. He stared down at his omelet, unmoving. His eyes started to fill with tears. His hand opened and closed, slowly, rhythmically.

"Oh, right, silverware," Nano said, her voice too light, too casual. She got up and rooted around in the bags, pulled out a handful of plastic forks and handed them out to everyone. She had to hold Nilesy's out to him for a good ten seconds before he took it.

There was a long period where no one said anything, and the awkward tension in the room ratcheted up and up, notch by notch. Everyone kept glancing at Nilesy. At the very least, he was eating, although it was mechanical, disinterested.

"So!" Nano said, breaking the silence at last. "Visiting hours start up at eleven. I've been wondering if there's a bus or something we could take down there, instead of having to walk the whole way twice a day."

"I can check," said Lalna.

"That'd be fantastic, thank you," said Nano. "I think I'll be heading out as soon as we're done with breakfast, if anyone wants to come with. Or I can go on my own, I don't mind either way. Lal, d'you still want to come?"

They shrugged. "I am capable of monitoring Zylus's condition from here. I don't think he would appreciate my presence."

"I think you remind him of—of Lalnable," said Rythian. "I'm . . . pretty sure that's why. He said so, anyway. At . . . one point. It might be better now. Since he doesn't have . . . Powers. Anymore."

There was a collective glance towards Nilesy. He had stopped eating and was now just poking his omelet with the fork, frowning.

"Should someone—" Nano began, and stopped herself. "Um. Nilesy, has Panda . . . told you what Zylus said? About . . . everything?"

Nilesy didn't respond, except that his eyebrows pulled a little closer together.

"I—no," Panda said. "I haven't. I could, if—if you want, Niles."

Nilesy took a slow breath. He stuck his fork in his omelet and left it there, fiddling with a loose bit of plastic on the end.

"Did he—" he began. He shook his head. "Did I—did we. . . ."

Nano waited, not wanting to interrupt in case it made Nilesy stop talking completely. Fortunately, the others kept quiet, too, and after a tremulous pause Nilesy picked up again.

"Did I _actually_ sleep with him?" he asked, fragile.

Biting her lip, Nano looked at Rythian, who was wincing like the words had been screamed in his ear. Panda put a hand over his face, looking ill. Lomadia fidgeted. Lalna looked between all of them, their eyes pale purple with worry.

"Um," said Rythian. "Y-yes. I'm . . . pretty sure that actually happened."

Nilesy huffed out a breath and curled further into himself. He tangled a hand in his own hair and pulled. He made a noise that approximated a laugh.

"He—did this thing," he said, his voice thin with restrained tears. "I'd _beg_ him to tell me it wasn't real, that I was dreaming, and he'd say, _No, Nilesy, I'm sorry, it's real._ And then . . . later, when I'd—I'd bring it up again, he'd go, _What're you talking about? That never happened. You're making things up again, you disgustin_ _g_ _fucking_ _—"_

He broke off, tense and hard and shivering. Nano swallowed and looked away. Rythian was crackling, sparks snapping through his hair and at the hems of his clothes. Nilesy laughed again, fragile.

"I mean," he said. "Unless I made that bit up."

Lalna looked at Nano. Their eyes were shifting between purple and red, their face expressionless.

"I have granted myself administrator access," they said quietly.

It took Nano longer than she would have liked to decide how to answer.

"Don't use it," she said. "Yet."

Lalna's eyes got stuck on red for a moment, then settled down to purple.

"Okay," they said, looking away.

An awkward silence fell. Nilesy picked at his omelet.

"It's not his fault, really," he went on. "It's not as though he _wanted_ to be doing any of it. Wouldn't have, if they hadn't made him. That's what the drinking was about. He was fucking miserable, every second of it. They must've made him, those doctors. Since August, at least. That's when the dreams started. Only I s'pose they weren't dreams, or not all of them. I know he _said_ it was all real, but he couldn't know for sure, really, could he. I _tell_ myself he wouldn't've done it if they hadn't made him."

"That . . . is a possibility," Nano allowed, just for the sake of saying _something,_ just so he wouldn't be speaking to an empty room.

Nilesy looked up, looked at her for the first time.

_"Is_ he dead?" he asked.

"No, not—not last we heard," she said gently.

He stared at her for a moment, then dropped his eyes. He nodded to himself.

"Well," he said. He sighed. "Well. There's that, then."

Nano looked at Lomadia. Her fists and claws were clenched, her face tight with anger. Sparks were glittering in Rythian's hair. Lalna's eyes had darkened.

"D'you . . . _want_ him to be dead?" Panda asked. His voice was overly casual.

Nilesy laughed, thin and hollow. He pulled his other knee up to his chest and rested his chin on it.

"I don't _want_ things, Panda darling," he said listlessly. "No point in _wanting_ things."

Another silence fell. Nano looked down at her half-finished breakfast and found she was no longer hungry. With a sigh, she shut the box.

"I think I'll just be . . . heading off, then," she said.

"There will be a bus in twenty minutes," Lalna said. "The ticket is two pounds."

"Good to know, thanks Lal," said Nano. She got up and stretched, carefully avoiding looking at Nilesy. "Where's the stop? I'm just wondering if twenty minutes is long enough for me to get there."

"It is," said Lalna. Nano's phone buzzed, and she reached for it while Lalna continued talking. "The bus stop is one tenth of a mile away. I've texted the directions to you so that you won't get lost."

"Oh," said Nano. She checked her phone to find, indeed, a text from Lalna. She put the phone in her pocket. "Well. Um. Thank you. I s'pose I'll see all of you . . . tonight. Unless someone wants to come by later and take over."

Panda made a face. Rythian shifted where he sat. Nilesy had gone back to picking at his omelet.

"I can if you need me to," said Lomadia. "Or we could just leave him alone."

"We'll—see how it goes," said Nano. "Thanks, sweetheart."

She leaned over and kissed Lomadia, then got her things together and headed out.

* * *

 

Nano had only a little trouble getting the front desk to let her up to see Zylus. They ended up looking her up online and finding her old YogLabs Division profile.

They got rather colder with her after that, but they didn't stop her from going in.

The nurse let her in without knocking on the door first, then left immediately. Nano entered slowly, not entirely sure what to expect. The various monitoring devices and maintenance machines were all up and running, filling the room with white noise.

Zylus was awake. He had a little remote in his hand, connected by a spiral cord to a small machine next to the bed. There was only one button on the remote, which he kept clicking absently while staring into space. As Nano came into the room, he spared her a glance and a wince.

"Hi," she said. She gestured to the remote. "I s'pose nothing's on TV?"

"Shtatic on every channel," he said. His voice was terribly weak, like there wasn't enough air in the room. "Every shixsh minutesh we get a couple shecondsh of the _morphine_ channel, which ish the besht thing anybody ever put on television."

He pressed the button again, four times in quick succession, annoyance pulling at his face. Nano swallowed and took a slow breath.

"Oh," she said.

Zylus looked over at her again, then at the remote in his hand. He frowned, and after a moment, set the remote aside.

"Hi," he said to her.

"Hi," she said again, more gently. "Can I come sit down?"

"Sure," said Zylus.

Nano came over and sat in the chair next to his bed. He watched her, but determinedly avoided making eye-contact. She folded her hands and rested her elbows on her knees.

"Feeling up to talking?" she asked.

He sighed, letting his head loll on the pillow. "Ash much ash I can."

"I need to know what happened," she said. "Every detail you can spare."

With a wince, he said, "You realize I've been drunk for eighty pershent of the lasht shixsh months."

"Then every detail you can remember," she said.

"If you get me drunk, I'll remember more. Shtate-bashed memory."

"No," said Nano.

"I told Panda. I think." He frowned, one eye scrunching up. "I'm . . . _pretty_ sure I told Panda."

"Well, he hasn't told me," she lied, her heart leaping into her throat even as she did so. But if he really didn't have his Powers anymore. . . .

Zylus sighed again.

"Two minutesh," he said.

"Until?"

He tapped the remote with a knuckle.

"Two minutesh," he said. "Then I'll tell you everything."

"Zylus—" she began, pained.

He cracked a feeble smile, rolling his eyes.

"Conshidering my propenshity for addiction behaviorsh, I shouldn't have opiatesh," he said. "I know, Lalna told me. Too late."

She watched him for a moment, drawn between hurt and righteous anger. She was, she found, primarily just disgusted with him.

"You're awfully flippant about this," she said.

"I'll have feelingsh again in about a minute and a half. Jusht wait. _I_ have to."

"I've half a mind to take that thing away from you."

"Go ahead. I desherve it." His hand wandered to the remote and started clicking the button again, _click click click._ "The hourliesh are the good onesh, anyway."

"If you know how long it's going to be before it works, why do you keep clicking the button?" The noise was starting to get under her skin.

"I'm hoping I'll break it," he said. "Jusht two hundred clicksh and I never wake up."

"That's not funny," she said. Her voice shook. _One decimal point. . . ._

"No," he said softly. _Click click, click, click click._ "It ishn't."

"I suppose we just sit here, then, do we?" she asked, keeping her tone light to cover up the dread pooling in her stomach.

"You do," he said. "That particular verb doeshn't get along with me." _Click click. Click._

Nano bit back her annoyance, grinding her teeth at the constant, arrhythmic clicking. _Drowning people can't ask for help,_ she reminded herself.

"I could bring you a book, if you liked," she offered. "So you'll have something else to do."

"Not shupposhed to raishe my armsh." _Click click, click click. Click. Click, click._

"Then I s'pose we'll just have to—"

_Click._ And he drew a breath and his eyes fluttered closed, and the tension went out of him. Nano looked away, sickened. The beeping of the heart monitor slowed perceptibly.

"Sho," he said, sounding exhausted. "Everything."

"Everything you can tell me."

"It shtarted in YogLabsh," he murmured. "With Gray and Robin. . . ."

* * *

 

The story, in the end, was almost identical to the one Panda had relayed to her, albeit more detailed. About two minutes into it he started clicking the button again. A couple more minutes and she was barely noticing it anymore, too wrapped up in the sordid horror of the tale he was spinning. By the time he got to the events at the bunker, she was sick to her stomach, dizzy.

"I thought, for mosht of it, that they wanted Nileshy," he said, his voice gone flat again. _Click click, click. Click, click_ _click click_ _._ "That they wanted him broken. Compliant. To ushe ash they shaw fit. I wasn't all wrong, that'sh what they wanted. They jusht didn't want it from Nileshy."

"Why didn't you _stop?"_ Nano asked. "Why didn't you _ever_ stop? Even when there was nothing left on the line?"

"Broken," he said shortly. _Click click click click click click._ "Compliant."

"Clearly not."

_Click click, click. Click. Click, click click._

"I didn't want to die," he croaked. "I only—did what I did becaushe I wash already dead. Before that? You would have killed me. Or worshe."

"That's not—"

"Really?" he interrupted. Her gaze drifted to his chest. She folded her hands in her lap and bit her lip. _Click, click. Click, click._

"But you could have stopped," she said. "Without saying anything. Without explaining."

"I couldn't," he said. "He needed me."

"Bull- _shit."_

"By deshign," he added dryly. "I made him that way. I tied a rope to him and pushed him off a cliff, I couldn't jusht cut him looshe. He needed me."

"Did he?" she said. "Or did you need him? _Considering_ your propensity for addiction behaviors. I notice you didn't mention the drinking in your grand manifesto just now. I get the feeling that was rather a large part of it. Around eighty percent or so."

_Click click click click, click click. . . ._

For almost two minutes, neither of them said anything. She saw another dose of morphine hit him. His eyes came unfocused. He started petting his own blankets absently, one-handed.

"How ish he?" Zylus asked, his voice quiet and tremulous, drowsy.

She chewed her lip for a moment. _Drowning people can't ask for help._ She looked away from him and sighed.

"He's . . . making it," Nano said. "Surviving. Trying to find something resembling an even keel. It's hard. He's not—he's having some trouble with deciding what's real, what _was_ real, and he doesn't really trust anybody, so . . . it's difficult. It'll _be_ difficult. For a long time yet."

"That'sh . . . better than I exshpected," Zylus said.

"I think he understands that you weren't entirely in control of the situation," she said. She paused, then added more softly, "And I think you understand that some things aren't forgivable."

Zylus didn't answer, his jaw tight, his eyes rimmed in red. Nano touched his shoulder.

"We'll see," she said. "Nothing's certain just now."

"I don't . . . want to go back," said Zylus. "I don't want to . . . I don't want to be in hish life anymore. I think—I think the besht thing I can do for him now ish to—to go away. Jusht go away, and never come back."

_"I_ think," Nano said, "that maybe you'd better let _him_ decide what's best for him. I think you owe him that much."

"He'sh been giving me shecond chanshesh for monthsh," Zylus said bitterly. "I don't want them anymore. I don't _want_ him to forgive me. Not again, not anymore, not for anything."

"Then what _do_ you want?" Nano asked. "Because I'm starting to think that this _going away_ thing of yours is a _touch_ concerning."

"I've been wishing I wash dead shinshe July," he said. "Shorry. It'sh habitual."

"Do you still?" she said.

He was quiet for a long time. His hand wandered, slowly, back to the button.

_Click. Click. Click._

"No," he said at last. "I'm—I'm shcared. I—when I wash. . . . I didn't shee anything. There wash no light at the end of the tunnel, no hellfire, there wash _nothing._ I don't want . . . I can't. . . ."

He trailed off. She didn't try to fill in the gaps for him.

"But I'm shcared to keep going, too," he went on, even more softly. "After everything I did, it'sh—it'sh too much. It'sh _too_ much. How can I _posshibly_ live with that? How could anyone?"

"Well," she said, "you could start with an apology."

"Not everything can be fixshed, Nano," he said.

"Not everything has to be," she said.

He looked at her for the first time. The corner of his mouth turned up.

"I'm going to missh the inshide of your head," he said. "It wash nishe in there."

"You'll have to make do with the outsides," she said, "like everybody else."

He shook his head, turning his eyes away again.

"I forgot how _lonely_ it ish," he said softly. "I forgot how . . . how _schary_ it ish."

She reached out and brushed an errant strand of hair off his forehead.

"Well," she said, after a suitable pause. "I can't say I forgive you. But if you're willing to try and make amends, I'm willing to try and accept them. And I'm willing to be there for you. To make things a little less lonely and scary."

"I don't desherve any of that," he said.

"Not yet," said Nano. "But you'll earn it. Call it a down payment."

"And if I don't?" he asked, that little smile tugging at his mouth again.

"Then I kick you to the curb and you never darken our doorstep again," she said pleasantly.

He huffed out something like a laugh. It was a mark of how much morphine must have been in his system that he didn't even flinch.

"You're not shupposhed to do thish with abushive people," he said thinly. "You're enabling, you know that?"

"I'm choosing to believe that you were being puppeted, and that now the strings've been cut, you'll shape up," she said. "The fact that you know what you did and you're sorry gives me hope. The fact that we had nearly _exactly_ this same conversation a year ago makes me just a _tad_ bit skeptical."

For a time, there was silence. Zylus started clicking the button again.

"It'sh a lot to repair," he said softly.

"We've got time," said Nano. She touched his chest, very lightly. "Work on repairing _that_ first."

He paused, set the remote down, and lifted his hand in a feeble salute.

"Aye aye, captain," he said.

She smiled at him. "Good start," she said.


	50. Chapter 49

The day passed excruciatingly slowly, halfway between boredom and tension. Nilesy mostly kept to himself, rarely speaking, never looking at anyone. Rythian caught himself staring more than once. There were still hickeys lingering on Nilesy's neck. Lalna had found him a change of clothes, just a t-shirt and jeans, but the short sleeves revealed mottled bruises on his biceps, prints from hands gripping too tightly, some yellowing and some only days old. When Nilesy did speak, the questions he asked set Rythian's blood to boiling without fail.

_Did I actually drown those people? Was Nano really kidnapped?_ _That business with Strife, did you know about that? Did that really happen?_ _Who did the breaking up, was it me or you two? He didn't_ _ really _ _used to hit me, did he?_ _Or was that from something else?_

And over and over, throughout the day: _Is he dead? He's not dead, is he?_ _Where_ _is he, again?_ _His Powers aren't really gone, are they? Is he all right? Is he going to be all right?_

By afternoon Rythian was so sick and furious he couldn't listen anymore. He already had half a mind to go straight to the hospital and give Zylus all ninety thousand volts right through whatever shriveled excuse for a heart he might have. Eventually, though, Panda suggested they find some movies or a series to watch, just so they'd have something to do.

Nilesy shut up on the instant, and didn't say a word for hours afterwards, like Panda's suggestion had been a rebuke of the utmost vitriol.

Lalna did manage to find some movies, and after a few minutes, worked out a way to display them on the TV. Panda leaned on Lomadia while they watched, and Rythian stayed nestled up against Lalna. Nilesy sat alone, his back to the wall, his knees to his chest. He scarcely moved, even when the pizza Panda ordered for dinner came and everyone took a break from movies to eat.

Rythian got Nilesy a couple of slices of cheese pizza and came to sit near him.

"Here," he said, offering the pizza on a torn off chunk of the pizza box.

Nilesy accepted it wordlessly, using both hands to take the cardboard. He did not look at Rythian. His eyes were reddened with unshed tears.

"Lalna and I are probably going to stay in the other room tonight," Rythian mentioned. "You can stay in there again, if you want to. I don't mind sleeping in the chair, and Lalna can sleep anywhere. Or you can stay in here. It's up to you."

Nilesy just shrugged. He started in on his pizza like he couldn't taste it at all.

"Well, you have plenty of time to decide," said Rythian. "Nano won't even be back until nine, at least."

"Whatever you think's best," Nilesy said, toneless.

"Not this time," Rythian said gently.

For the first time in hours, a flicker of emotion crossed Nilesy's face. He stiffened, paling, his eyes widening and his jaw clenching. His breathing got short and sharp. He glanced at Rythian as though trying to cheat on a test.

"No wrong answers," Rythian assured him.

"I don't—I don't mind either way," Nilesy said. His voice was shaking, thin. "Just—wherever there's space."

"Well," Panda said. He was sitting on one of the beds, leaned back on one hand and kicking his feet. "There's probably more bed space in here. Lom and Nano have been sharing one and I _guess_ Ryth and Lal have been sharing theirs, but I'm the only one in this one, so if you _wanted_ to share, that's all right with me."

"No," Nilesy blurted, and shut his mouth so quickly his teeth clacked together.

Panda pursed his lips, his eye narrowing.

"Right," he muttered. "Of course not. Stupid me for asking."

"It's—it's not like that, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Nilesy said, the words pouring past his lips in a torrent. "I don't mind, either way. Honestly. You can just stick me wherever there's space, it's fine, I don't mind. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Whatever, I don't care," said Panda.

Nilesy's hands were shaking. His eyes darted to Rythian again, to Lomadia, to Lalna.

"You're upsetting him," Lomadia said to Panda, disapproving.

"No he's not, no, really, he's not, it's fine, he's fine," Nilesy assured her. "It's just me, I'm just—sorry, I don't mean to—I shouldn't've said anything, it's my fault, I'm sorry."

"Nilesy," Rythian said, keeping his voice soft, lacking accusation. "He's being a jerk. You're allowed to say _no."_

"I wasn't—" Panda began. Rythian shot him a glare and he didn't continue.

"No no, no, I was—I was being rude, he's not done anything wrong, I really don't mind, honestly," Nilesy continued. His voice was starting to choke off. His eyes were starting to fill with tears.

A spark leapt off Rythian's elbow and earthed in the wall with a _crack_ and the smell of ozone. Nilesy flinched, hyperventilating. Rythian took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Nilesy whispered. "I'm—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"I'm not angry with you," Rythian said, working hard to keep his voice level. "I am angry with Zylus, because it's very obvious right now how badly he abused you."

"What?" Nilesy said, fragile and shivering. "No, ahah, _no,_ that's not—that's not what happened, it wasn't—it wasn't _that,_ I just—I was just—it wasn't _that_ bad, you shouldn't—there's no reason to be angry with him, honestly, I deserved it anyway, ahah."

Rythian shot to his feet, too hot with rage to slow his motions. Nilesy flinched again and the movement threw another slosh of petrol on the fire.

"I'm going out," Rythian said, his voice trembling with suppressed furor. "Nilesy, I am not angry with you. I am going away to calm down, and I will be back in about an hour. I am not angry with you. This is not your fault."

With that, he spun on his heel and stormed out, barely managing to keep from slamming the door behind him. The moment he was outside, he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw and focused all his Power into that special point just above his diaphragm.

The world closed down hot and dark, crushing on all sides, before splitting open again into light and cold, dumping him in a small copse of trees five hundred feet from the inn. Rythian crumpled to his knees and yanked his mask off, disoriented and dizzy and nauseous.

He was still crouched there, shaking and sick, when Panda found him.

Rythian glanced up as Panda crouched down about five feet away. He could feel his lip starting to curl, so he looked away. His movements rusty, he turned and sat down, settling his mask back over his face before his charge built up enough to start arcing through his lungs.

"Are you . . . okay?" Panda asked.

Rythian sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Not really," he said. "It's just that this is . . . dredging up some old stuff. I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough," said Panda. "I won't ask." He fidgeted. "Should I go?"

Waving a hand, Rythian shook his head. A silence fell between them, thick with things unsaid.

"I um," Panda said. "I really messed up, didn't I."

"Sort of," said Rythian.

"Nothing new," Panda muttered, glaring off into the dark. He sighed, shutting his eye and hanging his head. "I'm . . . sorry."

"It's not me you apologize to," said Rythian.

Panda sat down, resting his elbow on his knee.

"I've sort of . . . been meaning to talk to you," he said.

"I sort of figured," said Rythian.

"It's only rebound," Panda said, sounding almost _hopeful._ "It'll go away. Probably. I'm trying to make it go away. I'm working on it."

"I appreciate that," said Rythian.

"So you . . . don't. Have any . . . anything. For me."

"I'm glad you're not trying to slit my throat while I sleep anymore," Rythian offered.

Panda cracked a smile, ducking his head. "Fuck, I forgot about that," he said.

There was another silence. Rythian licked his lips and made a face.

"I think right now is just . . . a bad time," he said. "For everyone."

"No kidding," said Panda.

"But . . . I'm also just—I'm a mess, Panda," said Rythian. "Still. Maybe less— _less_ messy than before, but . . . still a mess."

"Makes two of us."

"That's sort of the problem."

Panda wrinkled his nose. He started picking at his shoe absently.

"Well," said Panda. "Yeah. Like I said. Rebound. It's whatever, I'll get over it."

 _You don't have to,_ Rythian wanted to say, and bit his tongue.

"If it's any consolation," he said instead, "I'm pretty sure I've had a crush on everyone I've ever met."

Panda looked at him, raising his eyebrows.

"What, even Nano?" he said.

"For about six hours," said Rythian. He shrugged, flushing. "She fed me. I'm easy, all right?"

"Lom?"

"In a _please step on me_ kind of way."

_"Zylus?"_

Rythian's jaw clenched. He wasn't charged enough for sparks to climb up his arms, but his skin tingled.

"Briefly," he said darkly. "Until he drugged me and kidnapped me and left me to be drowned."

Panda swallowed, shrinking down.

"I mean," he said. "Was sort of intending to commiserate on that one, but sure. Yeah. He's a fucking shitty person, lest we fucking forget. Never mind it was Nilesy who did the actual drowning, but apparently _that's_ forgivable."

 _"That_ proved to be an isolated incident," Rythian said, his lip curling.

"Right, sure, except when he tried to kill you _again_ afterwards. Isolated, yep, sure."

"How the _fuck_ can you defend him?" Rythian snarled. "You've _seen_ what he did to Nilesy. For _months._ Every. God damn. Day. For _months._ For no _fucking_ reason except because he _could._ How—"

"That's _not_ why and you fucking know it!"

"Make all the excuses for him you want, it won't change reality! _Christ,_ how can you look Nilesy in the face? How do you sleep at night?"

"He didn't _mean it,_ Rythian!"

"You don't _accidentally_ abuse someone. It doesn't _work_ like that."

"That's not what it was! Niles even _said_ so!"

"Nilesy doesn't know what the _fuck_ he's talking about!"

"Oh, _really?_ Oh, _doesn't_ he? Sure, okay, I'll believe _you_ over the person who _actually went through it!_ You said it yourself, it's all your own shit dredged up again. It's not _like_ that, Rythian!"

"Give it two months," Rythian growled. "Give it two _weeks._ You don't come un-trained right away."

"He's not a fucking _dog."_

"He was treated like one. Or did you miss the bruises?"

"That wasn't Zy! That _wasn't Zy._ He wouldn't _do_ shit like that! He was doing his fucking best under _horrific_ circumstances. He loves Nilesy like a—"

"Go the fuck away," Rythian interrupted coldly. "Go the fuck away and don't fucking talk to me anymore."

Panda glared at him, his eye brimming with tears, then leapt to his feet and dashed away into the night in a gust of wind.

Rythian punched the nearest tree. The bark split the skin on his knuckles.

He punched it again.

* * *

 

After about an hour, Rythian was still fuming, furious with half of everyone—Panda, Zylus, himself, at times even Nano and Lomadia. Still, it was best to keep his promises, so he went back inside and checked in with the others briefly. Panda wasn't back yet, nor was Nano, and Nilesy had absconded to the smaller room. Wary of overstepping any boundaries, Rythian got Lalna to come with him when he headed over.

Nilesy was curled up in the armchair, knees to his chest, staring at the far wall with his jaw clenched.

"Nilesy?" Rythian said, poking his head in. "Is it all right if I come in?"

"Who've you got with you?" Nilesy droned, not shifting his gaze.

Rythian pushed the door the rest of the way open. "Lalna," he said.

Nilesy didn't respond. Rythian looked back at Lalna and shrugged.

"Can we come in?" Rythian asked.

"If you like," Nilesy said laconically.

"Okay," said Rythian. He stood aside and let Lalna enter before him, then came in and shut the door. "I was just going to hang out until Nano gets back."

Again, Nilesy didn't acknowledge him. Lalna started ticking their thumbs together.

"I believe I should apologize," they said. "The opportunity hasn't arisen prior to now. I was aware that your mental health was declining rapidly. I even hypothesized that Zylus was the cause. I'm sorry I didn't act to remedy the situation. It won't happen again."

"Sure," said Nilesy, still staring at the far wall. His head was leaned back against the chair, his fingers draped loosely on his biceps.

Lalna's eyes darkened, and they hung their head.

"I understand that it is not forgivable," they said.

Nilesy shrugged, saying nothing. Lalna folded in on themselves, shrinking down as best they could.

"I have been a terrible sibling to you," they said, their voice almost too soft to be heard.

"No, Lalna, you haven't," Rythian cut in gently.

"A bit," said Nilesy, and immediately froze up like someone had put a gun to his head. Rythian clenched his fists and bit his tongue, breathing deeply. The silence stretched on.

"Nilesy," Rythian said levelly. "Would you excuse us?"

He didn't respond, frozen and wide-eyed and shivering. His throat worked as though he was trying to speak but couldn't.

"All right," Rythian said. He turned around and walked out of the room without a single backward glance. He heard Lalna follow him. He went down the corridor and into the stairwell, then kicked the wall.

"You are upset with him," Lalna said mousily. "But he is right to be angry with me. He is right to be angry with all of us."

"I _know,"_ Rythian growled, while sparks crawled up his back and arms and glittered in his hair. "But he _isn't_ angry, he's _scared._ And I'm _not_ upset with him."

Lalna frowned, their eyes going orange. "I don't understand," they said.

Rythian stepped up to the wall and banged his head on it a couple of times.

"I'm—I don't know, Lalna, I'm not good at . . . _directional_ anger," he said. "It's messy and it gets everywhere."

"I see," said Lalna.

For a time, they stood in silence, Rythian with his forehead pressed to the wall, Lalna behind him. Eventually they came over and put a hand on his back.

"We let this happen to him," Rythian murmured.

"Yes," Lalna said simply.

"How?" Rythian said. He bumped his head against the wall a couple more times. "How could _I_ let it happen? How could I not _notice?_ How could I not see it a hundred fucking miles off?"

"We were mostly paying attention to each other," Lalna said. "It was very easy to ignore everything else."

"Christ," Rythian muttered. He banged his head on the wall again. Lalna interposed their hand between his forehead and the wall.

"We'll do better," they said. "We're already doing better."

Rythian leaned against them. They put their arm around him and kissed his hair.

"Tonight is going to be really awkward, isn't it," Rythian said.

"Probably," said Lalna.

* * *

 

Rythian put off going back to the smaller room as long as he could. It was nearly midnight when he did. Lalna had already gone back an hour before. They were sitting with their back to the wall when Rythian got there, eyes closed, their chest still rising and falling with synthetic breath. They'd implemented that particular sleep-mode protocol specifically to keep Rythian from worrying.

Nilesy was still in the armchair, curled up in a position that couldn't have been comfortable. He seemed to be asleep. Rythian, after some deliberation, went ahead and climbed into the bed. He decided against waking Lalna and asking them to join him, mostly because he was concerned it would also wake Nilesy.

He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up again when someone settled onto the bed. He blinked, bleary, raising his head. He was just about to ask Lalna what had disturbed them when instead a pair of hands clutched his shirt and Nilesy pressed his forehead to Rythian's chest, shivering violently and crying.

Rythian held very still. Nilesy curled up close to him, struggling to breathe. Carefully, Rythian put a hand on Nilesy's shoulder, one on his back. Nilesy shuddered.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"Shh," said Rythian. He rubbed Nilesy's shoulder with his thumb. "Shh, it's all right. It's all right."

Nilesy shook his head. He continued to cry and shiver, and Rythian held him. He risked a glance over Nilesy's head at Lalna—they were still asleep, unmoved, the rhythm of their synthetic breath unchanged.

It took a long time, but eventually Nilesy calmed down. The crying stopped first, and then the shivers subsided. He lay with his forehead pressed to Rythian's chest, still clutching his shirt, just breathing. Rythian stroked his hair, his chest aching.

Slowly, Nilesy put an arm around Rythian. The warmth of him was terribly, painfully familiar. Rythian bowed his head, touching his mask to the top of Nilesy's head. He let his fingers rest against the collar of Nilesy's shirt, the better to feel him breathing, the better to preserve the moment. Nilesy sighed, and his breath was hot on Rythian's chest even through his shirt. Chills crept up Rythian's spine, one vertebra at a time.

Inch by inch, Nilesy's hand trailed down Rythian's side, found his trousers, hesitated, slipped under his shirt and touched bare skin. His hand was the only part of him that moved, autonomous. He was not breathing properly anymore. The shivers were coming back, tidal. His fingertips were warm. One pushed under the waistband of Rythian's trousers.

"No," Rythian said, as gently as he could, just touching Nilesy's wrist.

Still, Nilesy went rigid, stopped breathing for a moment. The shivering worsened, rolling through him in waves.

"I'm not angry," Rythian said, for all the good it would do.

Nilesy took a labored, shuddering breath. All of a sudden, he tried to wrench himself from Rythian's side, as though trying to flee the bed altogether. Rythian grabbed both his hands in a fit of panic. Nilesy let out a single, terrified gasp and froze.

"I'm sorry," Rythian murmured. "I'm sorry, Nilesy, I just didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry. You can leave. It's okay. I won't stop you."

He just sat there, upright and shivering, his hair curtaining his face. Rythian shifted his legs away from Nilesy and loosened his grip on his hands. Nilesy's fingers tightened like a vice, clutching Rythian's.

For a long time, there was silence. Rythian lay still, not wanting to risk even gentle movements. Slowly, Nilesy's breathing settled into something calmer, more controlled. Behind the curtain of his hair, Rythian saw an occasional tear drip off his chin.

Carefully, Rythian began stroking Nilesy's hands with his thumbs. The movement seemed small enough, gentle enough, that it didn't cause Nilesy to tighten up again, didn't trigger anything in him. Nilesy continued to cry, silently, withdrawn and hunched and hidden behind his own hair.

"I never stopped loving you," Rythian said, so quietly he could barely hear himself. "I was . . . afraid. Of losing you. Of losing Lalna. Because I wasn't—I couldn't be sure which one of you I loved first, or more, or if you being siblings made it wrong, or if one of you was just a replacement for the other, or. . . ."

He trailed off, realizing he was babbling. Nilesy said nothing. His hands were shaking.

"And I couldn't lose Lalna again," Rythian said. "I couldn't take it. But—I ended up losing you instead, and that was just as bad. And I feel like it's—it's my fault. It's _my_ fault for pushing you away, for not being there for you, for. . . . I thought it would be best if I stayed away from you, if I didn't interfere. I thought I would only make it worse. I told myself it wasn't my business. That _you_ weren't my business anymore. That if you wanted help you would reach out for it, when I _know_ that's not how it works—"

"I don't blame you," Nilesy murmured.

Rythian pulled up short. Nilesy was looking down at his own hands now, an expression of faint sadness on his face.

"I don't blame any of you, really," he said. "I mean. _I_ didn't know what he was doing. Couldn't expect any of you to."

"You can, if you want to," Rythian said softly. "Blame us."

Nilesy shook his head. Something resembling a smile graced his lips for a moment. Another pair of tears slid down his cheeks.

"I don't even blame him," he said, breaking Rythian's heart on the instant. "I could've stopped him. I could've _made_ him stop, anytime. I didn't even try, really. Half the time—honestly, half the time I was asking for it. He was—the rest of the time, he was drunk. That's not his fault, either, you can't blame people for getting addicted to things. Totally blacked out his telepathy. Mostly. Can't really blame him for not picking up on me not. . . ."

The unspoken words trailing at the end of that sentence made Rythian's bones crackle with hot coals.

"So it's my fault, mostly," Nilesy concluded. "Can't really blame anyone else."

Rythian sat up and hugged Nilesy as tightly as he could, his arms trembling, his chest more full of pain than when Sips had caved it in.

"I have been where you are," Rythian whispered, holding him as tightly as he could. "And I will _always_ be here for you. No matter what you think of him. No matter what you think of us. No matter what you think of yourself. This is _not your fault,_ Nilesy. No part of this is your fault."

"Kind of you to say so," Nilesy said softly.

Rythian squeezed him. "I mean it."

"I was there, darling," he murmured, with a quiet resignation that made Rythian want to scream. "It's all right. I'm sure whatever happened to you was different."

There was, Rythian realized, nothing he could say to Nilesy that he would believe, so he didn't say anything else.

* * *

 

Eventually, Rythian went to the chair and left Nilesy in the bed, because it was easier for both of them. Nilesy settled in, and Rythian pretended to be asleep. He watched Nilesy as surreptitiously as he could, while Nilesy wound down and finally stilled. Even in the dark, Rythian could see the bruises, mottling his neck, his arms. He found he wasn't even remotely tired.

"He's asleep," Lalna said softly.

Rythian went rigid before relaxing again.

"I'm . . . guessing you heard all of that?" he said, running a hand back through his hair.

"Yes," said Lalna. Their eyes cast a purplish glow over the room. "You could have said something sooner."

Rythian sighed, rubbing his temple. "I'm saying things now, Lalna," he murmured.

For a time, they did not respond. Rythian had learned when the texture of their silences was more hesitation than vacancy.

"You were abused, too," they said at last.

"Once," Rythian said. "A very long time ago."

"That's why you're so angry with Zylus."

"Yes, that probably has a lot to do with it."

"I see," said Lalna. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"No," said Rythian. "Not really."

Again, they hesitated. The silence went on for several minutes.

"Rythian?" they said.

"Yes, Lalna?"

"I'm confused about something."

"I can try to explain," Rythian sighed, shrugging.

"I know that what Zylus did to Nilesy is wrong," they said. "However, it's also wrong to kill people. We killed twenty-nine people at the secured location. We all killed people. Even I contributed to the deaths of at least three people, including Pyrion. But no one is angry with me."

"What we did was for the best," said Rythian. "We had good reasons to do it. We gave most of them a chance to walk away, and they didn't take it. What Zylus did is _unforgivable._ I—"

He glanced at Nilesy.

"He is still asleep," Lalna mentioned.

"Nilesy is never going to be the same again, after this," Rythian murmured, and the words burned his tongue as he spoke them. "Zylus took something from him, and he can't get it back."

"We took many things from the people we killed," Lalna said. "Several of them had families, and were only working to protect them. They were all living people with thoughts and feelings and futures. We destroyed all of those things in each of them. I still don't understand why Zylus's actions are considered so abhorrent and ours are considered acceptable."

"It's _different,"_ Rythian said stiffly. "If you kill someone, they're just dead. They don't keep hurting. They don't have to keep limping forward on broken legs."

Lalna tipped their head to the side, their eyes reddening.

"Would you rather be dead, then?" they asked. "Do you wish Nilesy was?"

Rythian recoiled from the question, horror clutching his heart. He looked at Nilesy, asleep on the bed. He looked at his own hands—scarred, mottled with pallor, still missing their fingernails. Despite everything, they were good hands. Despite everything, there was still a pulse in their wrists and warmth in their palms and sensation in their fingertips.

"No," he said, his voice escaping as only the barest croak.

"Do you want Zylus to be?" Lalna asked, very quietly.

He looked back to them. Their face was hard, their eyes a complex mixture of red and purple. His throat constricted and his heart started to pound.

"Is that . . . a practical question, or a hypothetical one?" he asked.

"Assume there is no difference," they said.

Rythian stared at them. His hands were sweaty. His breath was coming short.

"Would you kill him if I asked you to?" he whispered.

"Yes," said Lalna.

He looked at his hands, clean and calloused and healing. He looked at Nilesy, peaceful in sleep. He swallowed. He clenched his fists.

"No," he said. _"Christ,_ no."

The light of the room changed, ever so slightly, from red to green.

"I hoped you would say that," said Lalna.

Rythian looked at them again. They were smiling, although even that expression was still tinged with sadness.

"Would you . . . really have killed him?" he asked. "If I had said _yes?"_

"No," said Lalna. "But I would have been very disappointed in you."

Rythian got up out of the chair, crossed the room, and sat down next to them. They put an arm around him and he leaned his head on their shoulder.

"So you . . . just lied to me," he said.

"Yes," they said. Their eyes did not change color. "I'm sorry."

"Don't make a habit of it," Rythian mumbled.

They kissed his hair.

"Okay," they said.


	51. Chapter 50

The next day, Panda packed up all his diabetes supplies and took the bus to the hospital. No one offered to go with him, and he didn't ask anyone to. He left without checking in with Nilesy, something very close to shame constricting around his heart. Since he arrived forty-five minutes before visiting hours began, he wandered around the area until he found a place that sold snacks. He filled up his bag with candy, crackers, popcorn, and dried fruit. He had a brief moment of panic when he swiped the Strife Solutions credit card through the machine, but the transaction went through without a hitch. Still, as he made his way back to the hospital, he ruminated on when that particular penny was going to drop, and how hard.

Once eleven o'clock rolled around, Panda was shown up to Zylus's room without much wait at all. One of the nurses went to check in with Zylus to make sure he felt like having visitors, and returned promptly to bring Panda up.

"So . . . how is he?" Panda asked, while the nurse led him to Zylus's room.

"Well," said the nurse, "I don't want to make any promises, but he's definitely improved."

"That's good!" said Panda. "That's—that's really good! I mean, right?"

The nurse smiled at him. "Definitely good," she said.

There was a new addition to the room when Panda got there. It was a rollcart with a small, old TV and some form of gaming system. Zylus had a controller and was focused intently on the screen, which was playing something probably made in the previous century. As Panda entered, Zylus glanced up and paused the game.

"Shup, shpeedy," he said. His voice was markedly less weak, although he _did_ sound like he was in pain.

"Hey," said Panda. "Fancy setup you've got there."

Zylus made a face. He tipped his head towards another machine near his bed.

"Turnsh out _that_ little shnitch tellsh on you if you pressh the button too much," he said dryly. "Sho now I don't get ash much pain medication becaushe I can't be trushted with it. Fortunately they deshided to cut me off while Nano wash shtill here, and she convinshed them to drag thish up from the pediatric ward. Sho I have different buttonsh to pressh."

"You're stealing video games from _children,"_ Panda said.

"Apparently they hate thish one," said Zylus, the corner of his mouth turning up. "It'sh too old. Beshidesh, Nano promished them a wealthy benefactor would buy them all new gamesh and shyshtemsh, sho they didn't make too much of a fussh."

"What game is it?" Panda asked, peering at the screen. He didn't recognize it on sight. It was very green.

_"Majora'sh Mashk,"_ said Zylus. "I jusht about coded when I shaw they had it."

"Don't even joke," said Panda, although he was smiling.

"Shorry," said Zylus. "We can shwitch to shomething multiplayer, if you want to join. I think there'sh another controller." He lifted his head to peer at the rollcart, then winced and settled back again.

"I'll check," Panda said hurriedly. He went to the rollcart and investigated, but found no second controller. "Doesn't look like there is one."

"Damn," said Zylus. "Mind if I keep playing?"

"Not a bit," said Panda. He came to sit in the chair next to Zylus's bed. "So long as you don't mind if I commentate."

"Not a bit. It'll help dishtract me from how much I fucking hurt."

Panda winced. "I'm . . . still really sorry," he said.

"I shtill don't blame you," said Zylus.

The next few hours passed pleasantly enough, with Panda acting as peanut-gallery for Zylus's increasingly sloppy technique. Eventually Zylus got too worn out and handed the controller over to Panda, providing a mumbled and sleepy walkthrough whenever Panda got stuck somewhere. About an hour after that, he passed out completely, leaving Panda to play on his own. He kept the game running, but couldn't really focus on it. He was too busy paying attention to Zylus, just in case there was some subtle change in his condition that would require an immediate response.

After an hour, he carefully left the controller with Zylus, the game paused, and went down to the vending machines to get something to drink. He wasn't low, but he was starting to feel tired and irritable. He got a diet soda and brought it back up to Zylus's room, then picked out a pack of crackers from his bag. Since Zylus was still fast asleep, he went ahead and tested his blood sugar and gave himself a small correction dose. It was exhausting in a way he hadn't anticipated, a final concession to the reality that his shiny new pancreas was, in fact, totally bust, and that he'd be doing it just like this for the foreseeable future. He barely had the energy to actually eat his crackers, but he forced himself to because if he didn't he'd die.

Same story, different day.

Zylus didn't wake up again for several hours, until the nurses had come and gone on their rounds. Panda started up the game again, just to give him some semblance of continuity. The long silence, however, had wriggled into the cracks in his brain, dredging out questions he would have preferred to leave buried.

"Hi again," he said, as Zylus came to. "You've been out for a few hours. It's like four o'clock already."

Zylus mumbled something utterly unintelligible, possibly in Dutch.

"I've found this little house in the bay, but I can't work out what to do with it," Panda went on, gesturing to the game. "There's nobody here to talk to or anything. I've been running about like an idiot for half an hour."

Blinking and wincing, Zylus peered at the screen.

"Go hit the owl shtatue," he said, and dropped his head back onto the pillows.

Panda did as he was told, and soon they were back into the swing of the game. He found that he had less and less to say as time went on, that he cared less and less about what was going on. Eventually he was saying nothing at all, for minutes and minutes on end.

"Chrisht, I can't shtand it when you get quiet," Zylus said at last. "What're you thinking about? What'sh going on in there?"

Panda glanced at him, bit his lip and looked away. He fidgeted. He paused the game. He leaned his elbows on his knees so it would be easier to not look at Zylus.

"You didn't . . . _really_ hit him," he said. "Did you?"

Zylus's silence was answer enough, but he eventually spoke anyway.

"Never shober," he said.

"That doesn't make it any fucking _better,"_ Panda said, horrified.

"I know," Zylus sighed. "Believe me, I know."

"Why?" Panda demanded. "What could possibly—why would you—"

"I don't know, Panda," he said, exhausted. "There were a couple of timesh I blacked out and. . . . I only know what happened becaushe _he_ remembered it. There'sh no reashon that would jushtify it, anyway."

Panda clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his temper under control. The silence stretched long. He took a deep breath.

"You've got to put it right," he said.

"I can't, Panda," Zylus said, his voice hollow. "No one can. It'sh not fixshable. Trusht—"

He stopped, wincing like the word had hurt him.

Panda touched his shoulder.

"I didn't say you had to fix it," he said gently. "But you've got to—make reparations. Maybe you can't get him back to normal, but you can help him. He can get . . . better. Maybe he can get well."

"That'sh a long, _long_ road," said Zylus. "And not one I can be a part of."

"He doesn't blame you," said Panda.

"Of courshe he doeshn't," said Zylus. "Which ish why I can't come back. I _can't,_ Panda. I have to shtay gone. I'm . . . _I'm_ not well enough. To go back. I can't guarantee it wouldn't shtart all over again."

"It seems pretty fucking easy to just _not_ _hurt_ somebody," said Panda, yanking his hand back off Zylus's shoulder.

"And it _sheemsh_ pretty eashy to jusht _not drink,_ too," Zylus snapped. "It'sh not that shimple."

In that instant, Panda was seized by a singular revulsion. He leapt to his feet and stalked to the window, unable to stomach any nearer proximity to Zylus. The feeling faded quickly, although it was replaced by something infinitely worse.

_Pity._

"They've got . . . pretty well-established help," he offered, a squirming in his stomach. "For the drinking thing, at least. Probably for the—the other thing, too."

"Abushersh Anonymoush?" Zylus said dryly.

"I mean," said Panda, fidgeting. "Yeah, probably. There's got to be _something."_

"Who knowsh," said Zylus. "Maybe without my Powersh it wouldn't be worth it. But I'm not willing to rishk it."

There was another long silence. Again, it was Panda who broke it.

"Someday," he said. "Just—tell me _someday_ you'll come home. Tell me _someday_ you'll be well and he'll be well and I don't have to _choose."_

"You shound like Lomadia," Zylus said, some thin amusement in his voice. "And Rythian, for that matter. That'sh the problem, Panda. It'sh alwaysh a choishe. There'sh _alwaysh_ a choishe."

Panda looked back at him, a fragile shell of a thing like a cast-off skin, translucent and cold.

"Even for you?" Panda asked.

Zylus lifted one shoulder, looking away. There was a pain in his expression that had very little to do with his wounds.

"Alwaysh," he said. A wry smile twisted his lips. "I made a lot of bad choishesh."

"So choose to come home," Panda said.

"It'sh not that shimple."

_"Make_ it simple. I don't care how long it takes. Choose to come home."

Zylus deliberated, and turned to him, and met his gaze.

"Shomeday," he said.

* * *

 

When Panda got back to the inn, he headed straight for the main room. To his surprise, however, Lalna intercepted him in the corridor. Their eyes were neutral blue, their face giving nothing away.

"Hi," said Panda, looking them up and down. "What's up?"

"I'd like to speak with you privately," they said. "We should talk in the stairwell where we won't be overheard."

"All right," said Panda, not without trepidation. He followed them into the stairwell. Idly and of their own accord, his fingers brushed against his last remaining knife, touching the hilt for reassurance.

Once they were in the stairwell and the door had closed behind them, Panda spoke up.

"Um," he said, "is this . . . about Rythian?"

Lalna turned to him. "No," they said. Their eyes went orange and they tipped their head to the side. "Is there something about Rythian that requires discussion?"

"No! No, nothing, just—go ahead with whatever you were going to say," said Panda, blushing hotly.

Lalna stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. Their eyes went back to blue.

"I've thought of a temporary solution to your diabetes," they said. "I don't think the others would approve, but it isn't their business, so I'm not telling them."

Panda's heart leapt into his throat. "What—what sort of a solution?" he asked.

"I was investigating your records with Helianthus Labs," Lalna said. "Technically I was attempting to delete them so you would be more difficult to trace. I noticed that when your new pancreas was installed, the old one wasn't removed. This explains why you haven't required supplemental digestive enzymes even though your biomechanical pancreas has ceased to function."

"O-okay?" said Panda. His hands were sweating, and he was starting to get a crawling sensation under his skin.

"I still have three doses of serum," Lalna went on. "I believe proper application of them could restore the beta cells in your pancreas for a time. It's a highly temporary solution, as your immune system would subsequently destroy them again, but it may grant you some reprieve for up to a few months."

Panda gaped at them. "You're—would that _work?_ I mean, would the serum still work, even though it's been, like, golded?"

"I have no reason to suspect it wouldn't," said Lalna.

"And you're _sure_ you can do it? You can, like, stick it in the right place and it'll grow back my pancreas and it'll work?"

"I'm reasonably certain," Lalna said. "Within a confidence interval."

"Well then yeah, fuck it, let's do it! Right now, is right now good?"

Lalna hesitated. Their eyes flickered with some color that was not blue, but it went by too quickly for even Panda to catch it.

"If you'd like," they said.

"I _think_ I would," said Panda, suspicion tempering his enthusiasm. "Unless there's something you're not telling me that would make me _not_ want to fix my real actual pancreas so I can live like I _don't_ have a debilitating chronic illness."

Again, they hesitated. "There's a small chance it won't work," they said.

"How small?" said Panda.

"Less than five percent," said Lalna.

"Well that's—that's fine, Lal, that's nothing," said Panda, relieved. "I mean, unless it's a five percent chance I die a horrifically painful death."

"No," said Lalna. "That would only happen if you stopped medicating yourself without a functioning pancreas. It's just that it might not work."

"Okay then, let's go," said Panda, choosing to ignore the earlier part of their response because it made his insides squirm.

Lalna reached into their coat and withdrew the three syringes. They had also nicked a couple of alcohol wipes, presumably from Panda's supply. They stepped up to Panda and knelt in front of him.

"Wait, well hang on a sec, not _here,"_ said Panda, blushing again and stepping back from them. "It'll be weird. Somewhere more—private. Is anybody in the other—the other room?"

Lalna tipped their head to the side, then got to their feet. "I don't think so," they said.

"Let's go there, then," said Panda.

"Okay," said Lalna.

All in all, it took less than five minutes. Lalna had him sit on the bed and take off his shirt, then spent a little time prodding his abdomen, frowning.

"I'm not sure the needles are long enough," they said at last. "I may have to make a small incision."

"I'm not having you cut me open," Panda snapped, recoiling from them.

"I can't guarantee it'll work if I don't," said Lalna.

"I can guarantee you're not fucking cutting me open," Panda returned.

Lalna considered, their eyes turning orange. After a moment, they nodded to themselves.

"Proximity may be sufficient," they said. "Especially with a large dose."

"Let's do that, then," said Panda.

They got out the alcohol wipes and swabbed off a section of his abdomen thoroughly, intent on their work.

"Lal?" Panda said.

"Yes?"

"If it works, what do we tell the others?"

Lalna frowned, uncapping the first syringe.

"The truth, I think," they said.

"And if it doesn't work?"

"I see no reason why they should be told at all."

"Right," said Panda. He fidgeted. "Sure, okay."

They gave him the injections, as gentle as anyone could be with needles. Panda sat for a while afterwards, wiping the little beads of blood off his stomach.

"So," he said. "Has it worked?"

Lalna shrugged. "There's a very easy way to find out."

"Can we get pizza?" said Panda, sitting up straighter.

"I've already ordered it," said Lalna, smiling.

* * *

 

Panda was so keyed-up he almost couldn't enjoy the pizza. He hadn't bolused beforehand, and he was too nervous to choke down more than two slices. If it hadn't worked, if his insides were still broken, he'd be high for a week after this. He jittered incessantly. The compulsion to check his blood sugar was almost overwhelming. Nano kept giving him suspicious looks, but didn't say anything.

Finally, he could take it no more, and only fifty minutes after he'd finished the pizza he fumbled out his meter and checked his blood sugar. The wait while the meter calculated was excruciating. His leg was jittering so fast it hummed.

The meter beeped.

_105._

Panda loosed something halfway between a yelp and a hoot, so loud it made Lomadia clap her hands over her ears, and flung himself over backwards on the bed.

"All right, what—" Nano began.

Panda jumped up and zipped across the room and leapt upon Lalna, flinging his arms around their neck.

"It worked!" he cried. "It worked, it worked _itworked!_ You fucking genius, you bloody fucking _genius—"_

Lalna patted his back. "Thank you," they said.

He kissed their cheek, then dropped back to the floor and darted over to Nano. He seized her hand, pumping it like he was mining for oil.

"Your semi-adopted kid is a bloody genius," he said. "Well done, well done—"

"Panda," Nano said, a note of warning in her voice. He dropped her hand and darted over to Rythian, cannoning into him almost hard enough to knock him over. Rythian made a highly amusing noise which squeaked off when Panda squeezed him.

"You're wonderful, I adore you, your partner is the greatest most brilliant person in the world—"

"I—yes?" Rythian guessed. Panda dashed over to Lomadia and hugged her, too.

"I just love you," he said. "I really love you. Never change."

"You're being weird," she said, patting his head.

_"Yes,"_ he said, grinning. There were tears gathering in his eye.

"Do you _mind,"_ Nano cut in, "telling us what all this is about?"

Sheepishly, Panda peeled himself off of Lomadia and straightened his shirt. He cleared his throat and glanced at Nilesy, who was sitting against the wall, as per usual.

"You're wonderful, too," Panda mentioned.

The corner of Nilesy's mouth turned up. He looked away, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he fought the smile down. Nano cleared her throat meaningfully.

Ducking his head, Panda made a face.

"Um," he said. "Well . . . you remember those last three syringes?"

"Oh, for _God's sake,"_ Nano sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"It was my idea," Lalna volunteered.

"I had guessed that, yes," said Nano.

"And it worked!" said Panda.

"I can see that," said Nano. "And you didn't think to— _tell_ anyone about this plan of yours beforehand?"

"I considered it," Lalna said diplomatically. "I didn't think your input was relevant."

"Can I have this one thing?" Panda said. "Please? Can I _pleaaaaaase_ have this _one thing_ to be happy about? Can we just, like, celebrate? Instead of—shitting all over everything like you usually do?"

"I do _not—"_ Nano began. She clenched her jaw and pursed her lips, then let out a frustrated growl. "I'm _very happy_ for you," she said through her teeth.

Panda grinned, then ran over and hugged her.

With a long-suffering sigh, she hugged him back.

* * *

 

In the morning, they all had breakfast together. Panda ate six pieces of toast and a full order of hashbrowns. It was nearly _orgasmic._

"So," Nano said, sipping an orange juice. "I think, things going as they are, we should probably start thinking about more long-term arrangements. Obviously Zylus isn't going anywhere anytime soon, but I get the feeling we'll be hearing from Strife in the not-too-distant future."

"He did only agree to assist us until the Board was eliminated," Lalna said.

"Cool, so we renegotiate," said Panda. "Lal can still wreck his shit any day of the week, so it's not like we haven't got leverage. All we need is a new list of demands, honestly."

"Y'know, somehow, I feel like keeping pressure on him is _not_ a good idea," said Nano.

"Why not? He'll turn on us as soon as we back off, you _know_ he will."

"And he'll most likely turn on us _with a vengeance_ if we _don't_ back off," she returned. "He is not a nice man, Panda. He's not a stupid one, either."

"He's most likely aware of our current activities and location," Lalna said. "Since we've continued to utilize his funds to pay for everything."

"So he's probably fine with it," said Lomadia. "Otherwise he would've taken all our money away."

"He _did_ say something about us still being useful," Rythian said, his expression grim.

"I shudder to think," said Nano. "I'm not saying we've got to do anything about it right this second, it's just something to keep in mind while we're planning our next move."

"We should just buy a house," said Panda. "Right now, before he shuts the cards off. So he can't take it back, and then we'll just _have a house."_

"That . . . is not the worst plan I've ever heard," said Nano. "It's got some knots in it, but we can probably untangle them."

"It's unlikely we'll be able to remain in the country," Lalna said. "Considering that we're mass-murderers."

Silence clapped down like a pot lid on a fire. Panda fidgeted.

"Um," he said. "Well, I mean. . . ."

"That's . . . accurate," Rythian said, clearly uncomfortable.

"We'll just say those two doctors did it," said Lomadia, unruffled. "They killed everybody and then we stopped them. So everybody thinks they're bad guys."

Nano raised her eyebrows. "I think there's an awful lot of video evidence that that's not how it happened," she said.

"There isn't," said Lalna. "I disabled their cameras before we entered."

"Yes, Lal, but there was a rather long period of time when you were—not functioning," said Nano.

"I was very thorough," said Lalna. "I'm confident the cameras didn't record us at all. I also took the liberty of deleting all the stored files."

Nano made a face. "Those might've been useful, love," she said.

"Yes," said Lalna. "I made a copy of them."

"Oh," said Nano. "Well. All right then. Good thinking."

"Thank you," said Lalna, although their eyes remained cool blue, not turning yellow like they usually did.

"So we're—framing people," Rythian said. "For murder. Mass murder. That's—that's a thing we're doing, right now."

"Not _really,"_ said Panda. "I mean, it's their fault anyway. They set the whole thing up, they sent us in there, they got all those people killed. They were going to kill us, too. I'm more than happy to fuck them over posthumously."

"But—" Rythian said. He shook his head, making a frustrated noise. "Fine. Yes. Okay. _How?"_

"We can go to the police and tell them," said Lomadia.

"Mm, maybe not," said Panda. "It's a bit late for that. I mean, what's our excuse for sitting about for three days? They've _definitely_ found the place by now. There's no way they haven't. Fuck's sake, we called an ambulance _right there,_ they were probably there the day . . . we. . . ."

He trailed off. Nano opened her mouth, made a face, and shared a glance with Lomadia.

"So . . . why haven't they _already_ found us?" Rythian said slowly.

"Someone's pulling strings," Nano said, with rising rancor. "I am so _fucking_ tired of people _pulling goddamn strings."_

"It's Strife that's done it," said Nilesy. He spoke in a mumble, not looking at any of them, sitting in his customary spot with his back to the wall. "On account of we're much more _useful_ outside of prison than in it."

Panda bit back a sharp comment. Hearing Strife's name come out of Nilesy's mouth needled him. He restrained himself for the sake of civility, and also because Nilesy had been through plenty without Panda snapping at him every time he talked.

"Fine. Sounds like it might be time for a good long talk with Strife, then," Nano said.

"Like a talk, or a _talk?"_ said Panda, drumming his fingers on his one last knife.

"That depends mostly on what his plans for _us_ are," said Nano. She stretched, then looked at the clock. "Anyway. We've got a couple of hours before visitation opens at the hospital. I figure since Panda went yesterday I can go over today. Unless somebody else wants to."

"I—I will," said Rythian. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just for . . . fairness."

Nano raised her eyebrows. "All right," she said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's not so you can zap him, is it?"

"No," said Rythian, and there was something of genuine horror in his voice. "No, I don't—I don't think that would solve much." He glanced at Nilesy. "Besides, that's . . . not my dragon to kill."

Nano sighed, a wry smile pulling at her lips.

"Fair," she said. "Lal, d'you want to tag along too, then?"

"No," said Lalna. "I'd prefer to remain here and attempt to be a better sibling."

"You're a fine sibling, Lalna," Nilesy murmured.

"Then I'd like to stay here with my brother, because I love him," they said.

Nilesy actually looked at them then, for three whole seconds at least before he dropped his eyes and tugged on his hair.

"Thanks, sib," he said quietly.

There was a buzzing. Nano jumped, looking down at her own lap.

"That's my phone, hang on," she said, digging in her pockets.

"Who's calling you?" Lomadia asked.

"I bet it's the president," said Panda, to cover the fear grasping at his heart. "He's got a big lovely medal for her."

"It's the hospital," Nano said. "I've got to take this. . . . Hello?"

"That's just her cover story," Panda said conspiratorially. "Definitely getting a medal from the president."

"This is she," said Nano, putting a finger in her ear.

"I doubt the president would award any of us a medal," said Lalna.

"Why not?" said Rythian, rolling his eyes. "We did pretty good. For—for a given value of _good."_

"Better than expected," said Nilesy.

_"That_ is accurate," said Lalna.

"Thanks, sib," Nilesy said, cracking something that was very close to a smile. "I strive for accuracy."

"Oh," Nano said, very quietly. Something about the word was weighty enough to distort the universe, drag everything to a slow and viscous halt, like a silk scarf wrapped around a stone sinking to a riverbottom. As Panda watched, she put her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. Lomadia mirrored the motion, her eyes going wide, pupils shrinking, wings folding in close to her back.

"What?" Panda said, panic limning his voice with tremors.

"Wh—when?" Nano asked.

"What's wrong?" Panda pressed, getting to his feet. Lomadia's face was twisted with pain, her nose starting to run.

"I see," Nano said faintly. "I—thank you. Yes. We'll . . . I'll be . . . this afternoon. Yes. I can—I can do that. Thank you."

She hung up. She stared at nothing.

"Nano?" said Panda.

"He's gone," she said.

Panda felt it like a punch in the gut. It knocked all the air out of him, left him reeling. Rythian stared at Nano, his brows pulled together. Lalna hung their head, their eyes turning such a deep purple they were almost lightless. Lomadia sniffled hugely, wrapping her arms around herself. Nilesy put a hand over his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"What d'you mean, _gone?"_ Panda demanded, shaking and glassy, prone to shatter at any moment. "He can't be—he was—"

"Panda," Rythian said softly, pained.

"He's not dead!" Panda cried, his voice cracking. "Zy's _not_ dead! He's fine, they _said_ he was going to be fine! He's _got_ to be fine, they said—they _said—"_

"It was a blood clot," Nano said, her voice hollow and faint, like she was barely there. "Pulmonary embolism. They said it was almost instantaneous. They said it was—it was painless—"

All of a sudden, she broke, curling into herself while sobs wracked her body. Lomadia hurriedly gathered her into her arms, sniffling and trembling.

"This isn't happening," Panda said, so choked up he could barely speak. "This isn't—this isn't _happening."_

_"Panda,"_ Rythian said again, his voice ragged.

_"He's not_ _dead_ _!"_ Panda insisted, tears slipping down his cheek. "We were going to fix it! He was going to get better and he was going to make things right again and it was going to take years and years but someday he was going to come home again and it was all going to be all right! He was—he _is—_ he was supposed to be fine! He's _Zylus,_ Zy's always all right, he's _always_ all right, he's—he—"

Rythian got up, slowly, and folded Panda in his arms. Panda broke down, half screaming through his tears, pounding his fist against Rythian's chest in powerless rage. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think.

He wept, and Rythian held him. There wasn't much else that could be done.


	52. Chapter 51

Nano took the bus to the hospital, staring out the window and crying quietly the whole way. She kept a tissue in her hand, wiping her nose intermittently. Her face was stone. She could scarcely breathe past the lump in her throat.

At the hospital, she gathered herself and managed to speak to the receptionist. She cried while she did it, but the words got out.

"Excuse me," she said softly.

"Oh, yes? Sorry, can I help you?"

"Dr. Sounds," she said. The lump in her throat nearly choked her off. She had to wipe a pair of tears from her face. "I'm here for . . . to see Zach Lucas."

"Let me look him up for you, dear," the receptionist said, a measure of pity in her voice. She did some typing and some clicking, and the lines on her face deepened. "Oh, dear. We're very sorry for your loss, Dr. Sounds."

"Thanks," Nano said, barely managing a whisper.

"We'll have someone show you up in just a bit," said the receptionist. "Take as long as you need."

Nano nodded, then went to sit in the waiting room. Only a few minutes later, a nurse arrived to take her upstairs, and she followed silently. Her vision was blurry, her feet dragging as though through knee-deep water. Her heart fluttered in her chest with stupid, impossible hope, the childish notion that she would open the door and he would still be there, would turn his head and crack that weak little smile. . . .

The corridor was impossibly long. It was colder than she remembered. The nurse left her at the door, saying meaningless words of consolation.

She knocked, she wasn't sure why. Nobody answered. She tried the handle and found it unlocked. She went inside, eyes down.

There was a terrible silence. The heart monitor had been shut off. All the machines were quiet. The curtains were drawn. She raised her eyes, a steady flow of tears rolling down her cheeks, the lump in her throat strangling her.

He was so pale, and so still. His face was peaceful, restful. For once he didn't look like he was in pain. For once he didn't look frightened, or guilty, or miserable. They'd taken out all the tubes and wires. The covers were pulled up to his collar bones, tucked under his arms. She drifted to his bedside and sat down. She took his hand.

He was cold, cold, cold. His skin was like paper, dry and thin. She stroked his hand with her thumb, her face contorted with the sobs she was biting back. Tears dripped from her chin, and she couldn't stop sniffling into the silence.

He did not stir. He did not turn his head, did not squeeze her hand. His fingers were stiff. She folded, slowly, pressed her forehead to his knuckles. All she could smell was antiseptic and laundry detergent and death. There was not a whiff of nutmeg or pine.

She could not find a single word to say. She stayed with him until the morticians arrived to take him away. She could not watch them pack him up, no matter how gentle, how courteous they tried to be. She had to leave the room before she snatched him back from them, clutched him in her arms and screamed and wailed and _begged_ him not to be gone.

Instead she left the hospital, and went down the street to the nearest coffee shop. She drank a hot chocolate and cried into it. She locked herself in the bathroom for fifteen minutes with her knuckles between her teeth so no one would hear her sobbing.

When the third person came knocking, she pulled herself together, washed her face and tried to wipe away the blotchiness. She couldn't hide the redness of her eyes or the tear stains on the knees of her trousers. She left the coffee shop. She got back on the bus. She went back to the inn.

Lomadia gathered her up the moment she got back, wrapped her in her arms and her wings. Neither one of them said a word.

She went to Panda and hugged him, too, held him until he started crying. She found Rythian, and Lalna, and finally Nilesy.

"It's not real, is it?" Nilesy said softly, while she held him, her arms tight around him. "He's not really dead. I made that bit up. I made that bit up, didn't I?"

"It's real, Nilesy," she whispered, still more tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's real."

He didn't answer.

* * *

 

The following morning, Strife came to Leeds and asked to meet with her. She would have turned him down, except he'd called her personally instead of having a secretary do it, and there had been something of contrition, perhaps even regret, in his voice. She let Rythian know where she was going. She didn't offer an explanation, and he didn't ask for one.

The bus ride from the inn to Strife's arranged meeting point was long and chilly. She stared out the window the whole time, unseeing. It took her another fifteen minutes of wandering around in the fog before she found the right building. It was a little office, and when she said she was there to see Mr. Strife, the receptionist sent her directly back.

The room was a small conference room, with a large window that looked out on gray and sodden streets, gray and sodden buildings beyond. Strife was standing at the window, all his weight on one leg, his hands folded on his cane.

"I shouldn't be surprised you've got an office in every town," Nano said, shutting the door behind her.

"Yeah, for once, I don't own this one," Strife said, not turning around. "They just let me use it 'cause they know who I am. You can sit, if you want."

"I'll stand," she said.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said. He turned and lowered himself into a chair, leaning his cane up against the table. He looked ten years older. He didn't have any papers or laptops or tablets with him. There was no red amongst the black of his suit.

"What did you want?" she asked.

"I got some good news and some bad news," he said. "Which do you want first?"

"I'll have the good news, please," said Nano, an ache in her chest.

"Wellp, the _good_ news is, I managed to get the American cops off you for all the murders and the bank robbery," Strife said.

"How?" Nano asked, peering at him.

"That'd be the _bad_ news," said Strife. "You folks probably shouldn't ever go back there, because you're all legally dead in America now. I forged some death certificates and handed 'em over to the FBI, in case anybody manages to connect a bunch of Nevada murders to a Pennsylvania bank robbery. Said your bodies were now property of YogLabs, so they can't have those, either. Considering all the red tape between state police and the feds, I figure nobody's gonna look too closely."

"And the British police?" she said.

"Took the liberty of making the whole shebang a YogLabs internal affairs thing," he said. "Had to pay some people off, but hey, turns out most people don't wanna fool around with YogLabs if they can help it. News is calling it a gas leak. Got the whole area cordoned off. Pissed off a lotta golfers, apparently, but that's about it. Didn't even have to pay many survivor's benefits, 'cause it turns out YogLabs has a really _really_ crappy pension plan."

Nano took a slow breath and let it out.

"I suppose I should thank you," she said.

"Wouldn't object," he said.

"Is there a _reason_ you decided to do this?"

"Uh, so you don't all get arrested and-or extradited?"

"Can we skip all the bullshit, please?" Nano said. "Just this once, can you not play your stupid little games? _Please?"_

Strife regarded her for a moment, then sighed.

"Mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," she said, her voice taut.

He shrugged, sat back in his chair and made as though to put his feet up on the table. He winced when his left leg lifted, and he settled for steepling his fingers, both feet flat on the ground.

"Look," he said. "Plain and simple, you folks are still useful to me, and I don't want the cops stealing you and locking you up."

"Do you mind elaborating on that _useful_ bit?" Nano asked.

"Not much to elaborate," said Strife. "Not right now, anyway. I just wanted to let you know, you and your buddies are in the clear, at least for now. No Division, no cops. Just uh . . . time for a breather, hey?"

Nano watched him closely, her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed.

"That's very kind of you," she said suspiciously.

He shrugged again. "Yeah, well," he said.

There was a moment so quiet she could hear the traffic outside.

"I uh . . . I wanted to say," Strife said, looking anywhere but at Nano. "Y'know, it was uh, it was part of our little blackmail-agreement thing that I'd pay all the medical bills, and, y'know, I did that, but uh. . . . Ahem. I wanted to offer to cover the uh . . . the funeral. And assorted expenses. Since you folks are sorta hard-up for cash."

Nano stared at him.

"Why?" she asked.

He shrugged, fidgeting like his chair was covered in ants.

"'Cause he . . . 'cause in some other life, that was _me,"_ said Strife, uncommonly emotional. "Some other . . . _better_ me. And he died looking out for you folks, and . . . there's been a couple times in my life when I had that choice and I didn't . . . I'm starting to think maybe I chose wrong. Maybe I . . . I've _been_ choosing wrong. And maybe I want to start . . . putting it right again. While I still got time."

"It's appreciated," Nano said carefully.

"Yeah, well," Strife said, shrugging it off, putting his mask back on. "The other side of that coin is, I'm taking over YogLabs, so uh, y'know, don't thank me yet."

"I haven't," said Nano.

He cracked a smile. "Guess you haven't. Anyway. We're missing a whole lotta Board members, and uh, y'know, I noticed that you don't have a job just now."

"Are you asking me to come back to work for YogLabs?" she said, her fists clenching.

"Not exactly," said Strife. "I'm asking if you want to run it."

"With who else?"

"Me, for one," said Strife. "Since I already got the paperwork in to make it a subsidiary of Strife Solutions. Had _that_ waiting. I figured you'd have some ideas what to do with the place, other than burning it down. Lotta good science in there. Just run by a bunch of assholes so far."

"Do I get to pick my fellow Board members?" she asked pertly.

"In . . . part?" Strife guessed. Nano gave him a stern look, and he sighed. "Sure, fine, but you gotta pick from the people who already work there."

"We'll see," she said. "What about everyone else? Lalna and Lomadia and the rest. I don't suppose you've got job offers for them, too?"

"I could find some things," Strife said, gazing out the window. "That Rythian guy would make a hell of a bodyguard. I could find stuff for everybody, sure. Assuming they _want_ to work for me, of course."

"Of course," said Nano.

Another silence fell. Strife continued to fidget.

"What changed your mind?" Nano asked.

"About?"

"Us. YogLabs. All of it."

Strife frowned, staring out at the fog.

"For fifty-six damn years, I've been standing on the wrong side of history," he said at last. "With my feet planted in the mud and a spear in my hand. I've always been about progress, and advancement, bigger and better and yada yada yada. I had a whole lotta people standing there next to me with their feet planted and their spears in hand. And y'know, I realized: _all those people are dead now."_

He swiveled his chair back and forth, drumming his fingers on his own arm.

"And they were all assholes, too," said Strife. "They were bullies, and blackmailers, and bigots. And so was I. It took you people coming in here bullying and blackmailing me for me to realize—it's not like normal people are _better_ than Powered people. All people are fucking _assholes._ Just some of 'em have super powers. And in a hundred, two hundred, three hundred years, everybody's gonna have super powers, and there's still gonna be just the same number of bullies and blackmailers and bigots as there ever were. But _every damn one of them_ was gonna be spitting on my grave unless I took my feet outta the mud and put the goddamn spear down."

Shaking his head, he snorted.

"The last thing I want is to go down in history as the guy who _held up_ progress. I'm not gonna turn the clocks back, and it wouldn't help even if I could. I can either dig in my heels and drag on this train 'til I _die,_ or I can quit being a jackass and go put some coal in the engine. The train's not stoppin' either way."

"That is," Nano said, after a suitable pause, "the most selfish expression of nobility I've _ever_ heard."

"I'm a selfish guy," Strife said, shrugging. "You gonna look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"You're not a gift to anyone, don't get ideas," she said. "But . . . I'm glad you're coming over to our side, whatever the reason."

"Thanks," he said dryly. "Means a lot. _Anyway._ You want that Board position or not?"

"That depends. What would my _actual_ job be, outside of Board duties?"

"Head of Section L?" Strife suggestion. "Director of the Division? Head of Medical? Take your pick, it's yours."

 _"In_ regards to the Division," she said. "Before I make my decision, I have a recommendation for who should take the post."

"You can send 'em my way and let 'em fill out an application," said Strife. "Who is it?"

"A woman by the name of Zoey," said Nano. "She used to work for the Division. She lives in Sweden now, because she had to flee the country after the incident with the androids."

"Whole damn organization's gonna be run by criminals," Strife muttered.

"That's not any different from before," Nano said.

Strife sighed. "If she wants the job, she can get in contact with me, and I'll consider it," he said. _"Depending_ on her qualifications."

"Fair," said Nano. "I think, for myself, I'll have the Section L position. All our troubles seem to start there. I'd like to keep a better eye on it."

"Done," said Strife. "I'll send you the paperwork later on today. You want your old lab back? Somebody else's been using it, but I can kick 'em out."

"No," she said slowly, "I don't think I do."

"Suit yourself," said Strife, shrugging. "I'll put you in touch with some of my people and they'll set you up somewhere."

"I think we'll pick somewhere out ourselves, thanks," said Nano.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine, sure. First New Board meeting is gonna be next Wednesday, nine a.m. sharp. You don't show up, I'm giving the spot to somebody else."

"Fine," said Nano. She stepped up to the table and stuck out a hand. He didn't look up, so she cleared her throat. He regarded her from the corners of his eyes, raised an eyebrow, then took up his cane and levered himself to his feet. He shook her hand.

"Welcome to YogLabs," he said.

* * *

 

When she got back to the inn, the first thing she did was check on Nilesy. She found him in the bathroom of the smaller room with a pair of scissors, methodically cutting all his hair off. He did not look at her as she entered, although his jaw tightened. She leaned her shoulder on the doorframe and folded her arms.

"D'you want some help?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"All right," she said.

He took a handful of hair and cut it very close to his scalp, having to work the scissors open and shut several times to get through the thick bundle of it. He dropped the handful of hair into the bin next to the sink, shaking his fingers to get the last strands off. He was crying, steadily, quietly.

"I can go," Nano mentioned.

Nilesy cut off another chunk of hair and dropped it in the bin, then another. His movements slowed, winding down like he was an automaton running out of power.

"There's worse things I could be doing with a pair of scissors," he said, very quietly.

Nano inclined her head, swallowing down dread.

"Yes," she said. "There are."

Another hunk of hair, into the bin. His hands were shaking. The blades of the scissors gleamed in the light. They made fat, silken sounds as they chewed through his hair.

The scissors clattered into the sink, and Nilesy caught himself on the counter with both hands as sobs wracked him, quiet and violent. He began to fold, strands of uncut hair falling into his face, his teeth bared in pain.

Nano went to him and touched his arm, carefully. He grabbed her shirt in one shaking fist, gasping for breath. She moved him away from the sink and sat him on the edge of the bathtub. She retrieved the scissors from the sink.

"You'll look a mess if we leave it like this," she said, running a hand through the uneven chunks of his hair.

A pinch at a time, she started trimming off the rest of it, being gentle as she could be. He continued to hold onto her shirt and shiver, although the sobs subsided quickly back into silent weeping. She spoke softly to him, meaningless words of no substance or import. Black hair littered the floor and the inside of the tub. Short bits of it clung to her fingers and made them itch. The scissors were dull by the time she was trimming the last straggling hairs. It was something of a relief.

"There," she said, putting a fist on her hip and looking him over. "Done."

He was sheepish and odd-looking, his ears too big for his head, the shape of his face subtly altered. He looked a lot more like Xephos. She sat down next to him on the edge of the tub.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked again.

After a very long moment, he shook his head.

"Okay," she said. She got to her feet, moving slowly. "I'm . . . going to take the scissors with me."

He didn't respond. She turned to go.

On the threshold, she hesitated. There would never be a better time. There might never be another time at all.

 _"Peculier?"_ she asked, her voice so soft it cracked into a whisper.

Nilesy was quiet for so long that she began to think he simply hadn't heard her. She looked over her shoulder at him. His face was blank, his hands were clenched on his knees. Just as she was turning to leave him, however, he spoke.

"Isabel," he said. He did not look at her. "My—Liam's mother. Don't tell me what you find."

"Why not?" she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"If I ever found her," he said, "I'd kill her, too. _Don't_ tell me what you find."

Nano swallowed. "Okay," she said. "Nilesy, I'm . . . I'm sorry."

"I know," he said.

She bit her lip, then bowed her head and left.

* * *

 

With nothing left to keep them in Adel, they returned to Bristol in the morning. Lalna had taken care of all the liaising with landlords and Strife Solutions and had found them a reasonably nice pair of three-bedroom flats. The flats were furnished, although the couches were hard and uncomfortable, the beds even more so, and the chairs were scarcely more than metal frames. The group didn't so much move in as drift inside and settle like dandelion seeds. They took a long shopping trip to pick up new clothes and sheets and pillows, groceries and cookware and all the essential minutiae. They returned to the flats and each went their separate ways to get properly settled in.

While Nano was stowing her new clothes in the too-small dresser in her room, there was a knock at her door.

"Yeah," she said, only briefly glancing up.

The door opened and Lomadia stuck her head in.

"Hi," she said. "Can I come in for a bit?"

"Of course, sweetheart," said Nano, abandoning her clothes-folding to give Lomadia her undivided attention. Lomadia came in and settled on the floor near Nano. She held out a hand and Nano took it.

For a time, neither of them said anything. Nano stroked the back of Lomadia's hand with her thumb, glad of the warmth of it, glad of the familiar roughness of her skin.

"I guess it's over, now," Lomadia said.

"By—by _it,_ you mean. . . ?" Nano said, apprehensive.

Lomadia shrugged her wings, looking at her hand and Nano's, intertwined. "All of it. We've been trying to get rid of YogLabs for, like, ever, and now it's gone."

"Not _exactly_ gone, sweetheart," said Nano. "Just—run by very different people. Me being one of them. Zoey might be another. Hopefully a few other good people."

She shrugged again. "But the thing we wanted to get rid of, that's gone. So we did it. We won, and it's over now."

"Well . . . yeah," said Nano. "I guess it is."

There was another silence.

"There was something Nilesy said one time," said Lomadia. "And I know you don't like me talking about him, but—"

"It's fine, sweetheart," said Nano. "Go ahead."

Lomadia's wings pulled in close to her back.

"I probably wasn't supposed to hear it," she said. "It was after he killed Xephos. He said, _nothing's changed. Nothing's different. Everyone's still dead and everything still hurts._ And I didn't really get how he could feel like that." She shrank farther into herself, sniffling. "I think I do, now."

Nano swallowed, pushing down the lump in her throat.

"Yeah," she said. "I think I do, too." She squeezed Lomadia's hand. "It—I think it'll _get_ different. It'll _get_ better. It just . . . needs time. We sort of took the plug out so things _can_ change. Now we've just got to . . . _actually_ change them."

Lomadia made a face. She glanced at Nano. "There was something you said, too," she said. "At Strife's place. You said, _someday, if or when you're ready,_ and then you didn't finish because you said it was the wrong time. But I guess it's over now, so maybe it's the right time. Right now before anything else bad happens."

Nano took a slow, deep breath. She had to swallow three more times before she could speak.

"Well, Lom," she said, and her voice was shaking. Her hands were sweating, and she had to let go of Lomadia to wipe them on her trousers. "Well. The way I see it, um. . . ."

Lomadia watched her, puzzled, concerned. Nano took another deep breath.

"Well. You know, it's sort of like, I was kidnapped, and locked in a tower, and you _did_ sort of rescue me, and—well, and I love you, and . . . I'm explaining this horribly, I just—I'm a bit—I haven't even got a. . . ." She had to stop to breathe, because she was hyperventilating and it was making her dizzy. "All right look, I'm just going to spit it the fuck out, because this is ridiculous. Lomadia, _will you marry me?"_

Lomadia blinked, drawing herself up, her wings fluffing out.

"Okay," she said. "When?"

Stunned, Nano could only stare at her, mouth agape. "Are—seriously? Just like that? Just—I mean _just_ like that?"

"Well, yeah," said Lomadia, shrugging. "I already said I was going to marry you, if you wanted to get married."

Nano burst out laughing and threw her arms around Lomadia, burying her face in the other woman's chest.

"Oh, _God,_ Lom," she said. "I love you. I really, really love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Good," said Lomadia. She kissed the top of Nano's head, folded her wings around the two of them. "Because I want to spend my whole life with _you,_ and make you breakfast in bed and go out flying and wear pretty dresses and have lots of sex."

Nano laughed again, even as tears slid down her cheeks. "Deal," she said. "Oh, God, I've got—we've got to get rings, and pick a date, and—and—"

Lomadia kissed her head again, rubbed her back gently.

"We should wait a little while," she said softly. "Probably until . . . after they bury him."

The warmth in Nano cooled quickly. She stayed in Lomadia's arms, cocooned in the heat of her. She was not breathing so easily anymore.

"Yeah," she said. "That's probably for the best."

"I love you," Lomadia said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," said Nano.


	53. Chapter 52

It rained the day they buried Zylus.

The service was small, sparsely attended. There were words that Panda didn't really hear. It was cold in the church. The pews were hard and creaky. He ran out of tissues. There was singing, songs he vaguely remembered from a long time ago, a different life. There were flowers and candles. There were no photographs.

The rain pattered on black umbrellas, the wet gravel crunched under his dress shoes. They got into black YogLabs company cars and drove slowly. The rain tapped on the windows like it wanted to be let in. Lomadia and Nano were holding hands. Rythian and Lalna were holding hands. Nilesy was pale and expressionless and crying.

There was a green canopy tent over the grave, white folding chairs and a pulpit and lilies. Panda's suit was too big in the shoulders, too narrow in the hips. He couldn't help but fidget. He couldn't help but touch the knife in his pocket.

The coffin arrived after all of them, borne on the shoulders of four impersonal hired pallbearers. They set it on a cloth-draped table near the grave. More words were spoken, meaningless.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._

Panda stood and watched as they lowered him into the ground, reverent, careful. He felt the knife in his pocket. He wiped the tears from his face.

One by one, they approached the grave, flowers in hand to toss upon his coffin. There was singing. Panda stood near the back of the line. He approached, step by slow step, blinking the tears from his eye. The headstone was not ornate, a simple slab of granite with a simple epitaph:

 

 _Zachary_ _"Zylus"_ _Lucas_

_December 5, 2006 – September 28, 2036_

_He did not go gentle into that good night._

 

When he tossed his flower in, there was a loud _thunk_ as the knife—his last, very last knife—went in with it. He hurried away, feeling eyes upon him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. The ground was mushy, muddy. His breath misted in front of his face. He went back to his seat, clinging to the shreds of his composure.

Nilesy was standing at the foot of the open grave. One hand, at his side, opened and closed, slowly, like the valve-swelling breath of some deep-sea creature. The rain seemed to hesitate in its descent, only for a moment. He turned away, walked to the back of the rows of white chairs.

More words. One more song. It wasn't quite right, too impersonal, too generic, too cold.

They had a bulldozer to fill the grave. Nano led Panda away before it could finish its muddy work. They all got back into the cars, drove away together. The rain slid down the windows. The world was gray, and no different than it had been four days ago, when Zylus had still been alive.

There was something of a reception. Rythian eventually cajoled Panda into eating. There was vindaloo and cake and hot tea. The six of them sat together, not alone in the room but distinctly separate. Panda wondered, for the first time, who the other people were.

"I s'pose he must've . . . had friends," Panda said, poking at a clump of curry-soaked rice. "Other than us, I mean."

"I'm sure he did," said Nano. "Coworkers, at least. They put it out in the papers, this whole . . . thing."

"He was really good at making friends," said Lomadia. "When he wanted to."

"It's an anxiety thing," Nilesy said quietly. "Hated for people not to like him."

"I'd believe it," said Nano. "The lengths that man would go to just to avoid an awkward situation, I swear."

"One time he didn't want me to know he had a migraine, so he hid under his bed," said Lomadia. "Panda was supposed to get him more medicine but he forgot, and Zylus didn't want him to feel bad about it so he tried to keep anybody from finding out."

Nano snorted. "He'd take off for work twenty minutes early just because he didn't know what to say," she said.

"I remember that," said Lalna. "He was uncomfortable because he couldn't hear me thinking."

"Did I ever tell you, he's how I figured out the whole . . . pansexual thing?" Rythian said, nudging Lalna.

"Really?" they said. "I determined that I was asexual by reading his blog. We talked about it. He was very supportive."

"I'm pretty sure he set me and Niles up, to start off with," said Panda. "Regular little matchmaker, he was. Which is awfully ironic, considering how he felt about romance."

"Ace, but not blind," Lomadia said. "That's how he said it."

"He used that one on me," said Rythian.

"I know," said Lomadia. "I was there."

Rythian made a face and scratched the back of his head. Lalna kissed his hair.

A waiter came by and set a bottle of red wine on the table, then evanesced into the crowd.

"Should we toast?" Panda asked. "I feel like we should toast."

"Yeah," said Nano. "Seems appropriate."

Panda filled his glass, then Nano's, Lomadia's, and Rythian's. Nilesy waved him off, turning away from the conversation.

"Well," said Panda. "Here's to Zylus, I s'pose. And . . . to making heroes of us."

They clinked their glasses. Panda drained his in one go.

* * *

 

He lasted two days before the weight of it overwhelmed him. He went out and bought a half-liter of cake-flavored vodka and smuggled it into his room. He started drinking just after dinner, while Rythian and Lomadia cleaned up. He nearly choked on the first couple of sips, having to smother his coughing behind his hand so nobody would come check on him.

After an hour, he was taking gulps right out of the bottle.

After two hours, he was sloshed enough to think picking up his phone was a good idea. Once that ball was rolling, he had very little control over where it went.

His first message was to Rythian.

 _I'm drunk and your hot and I hate you,_ it said.

Some amount of time between fifteen minutes and an hour passed. There was no response. He sent another.

_Come talk to me I hate myself too._

Again, there was no answer. Panda slugged down a gulp of too-sweet, burning alcohol. His fingers moved on their own. The next message went out before he could stop himself.

_Please come talk to me. Please._

It was sent to Nilesy. Panda, realizing what he'd done, groaned and buried his face in his pillow. One hand was clenched around the neck of the vodka bottle, the other around his phone. One of them buzzed against his palm, and it took him a second to figure out which. Through the tears and the drunken swimming of his vision, he managed to pick out the words.

_Where are you?_

Panda choked back a sob. _My room,_ he replied. The phone buzzed again almost instantaneously.

 _Two minutes,_ said Nilesy.

The tears, once started, could now not be stopped. The lump in his throat was strangling him. He couldn't curl up properly, so he just sat on his bed, drinking intermittently from the bottle. It was almost half-empty, now.

There was, at some point later, a gentle knock on his door.

"Panda?" Nilesy called.

"'S unlocked," Panda responded, hoarse from crying.

The door opened and Nilesy slipped in. His haircut still looked stupid. He stood just inside the door and looked Panda up and down—the bottle, the mussed hair, the shirt that had somehow gone missing, the tears and snot and swaying unsteadiness.

"You're drunk," Nilesy said. His voice was very restrained.

"No shit," said Panda. He sniffled.

"Well," Nilesy said. He turned around. "I s'pose there's not much talking to be done."

"Oh _fuck off,_ Nilesy!" Panda cried. "My best friend is _dead,_ all right? He's fucking _dead,_ and it's because of me, so _yeah,_ I'm gonna get fucking drunk. I'm gonna get _fucking_ drunk, just like you promised we would when I got my new pancreas, but you never did because you were too busy _fucking him behind my back!"_

Nilesy said nothing. His back was still turned. Panda scrubbed furiously at the tears on his face, the snot running from his nose.

"And I'm still in love with you," Panda said, his words mushy and slurred with the alcohol. There was some part of him that knew he shouldn't be saying it, but the rest of him didn't care. "And I wish I wasn't. I'm still in love with you and I fucking killed my best friend and if I can't get fucking drunk then I'm going to fucking kill myself, all right? 'Cuz Zy's dead and it's my fault and I can't. I just _can't,_ with that. All right?"

Still, Nilesy did not reply. Panda wiped another glob of snot off his face, sniffling again.

"How can you not care?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "How can you just—not _give_ a fuck? All this time, all this—this—this _nothing_ you put on, it's like you're still wearing the fucking mask. And you don't _care._ You don't care about anybody or anything except _you."_

"People die, Panda," Nilesy murmured. "Someday it was bound to be him."

"I bet _you're_ pretty fucking pleased about it," Panda retorted.

For a moment, Nilesy just stood there. Slowly, he turned back around, and came over to the bed, and sat down at the foot of it, out of arm's reach. His face was unreadable, not precisely _blank_ but imbued with expression too subtle for Panda to grasp.

"Sometimes," Nilesy admitted. "Sometimes I'm glad he's dead. Sometimes . . . I miss him so much I can't breathe."

He brought one knee up and laced his fingers over his shin. He was staring into the middle distance, his eyes half-focused.

"There were just . . . so many of him," Nilesy said absently. "So many different Zyluses, all walking about in the same head. It'd be easier if they'd all been different people, but. . . . I miss—I miss his stupid fucking hipster games, and tea in the mornings, and . . . breaking into aquariums in the middle of the fucking night because he'd never seen an octopus. Lovely back rubs, and neck massages, all that. He could be so kind. He understood, right? He _got it._ Always knew what I needed and what I wanted without me ever having to say a word. It was good. I mean, _when_ it was good. When it was good, it was _amazing,_ but. . . ."

Apprehensive and dizzy, Panda kept quiet, waiting for Nilesy to continue. When he did, his voice was low and flat, his expressions muted.

"He stuck a crowbar in my brain and didn't stop _twisting_ until I broke," he said. "And then he picked up all the little bits and built somebody else, somebody who _suited_ him, and I will _never_ be able to tell what's me and what's him because I don't remember who I was before. I'll never be able to put it back the way it was. And—when he went, now he's gone, he took so many bits with him that I can't—I can't do _anything_ anymore, without him. I just want him to come back, and _put it right,_ because he's the only one who might know where everything was supposed to go, because without him all this _mess_ in my head is just howling into the fucking void, because I _need_ him, because. . . ."

A pair of tears rolled down his cheeks, and he laughed to himself, shaking his head.

"So yeah, sometimes I'm glad he's dead," he said lightly. "And sometimes I miss him so much I can't breathe."

"I'm sorry, Niles," Panda said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah," Nilesy murmured, wiping the tears off his face. "Me too."

* * *

 

The following afternoon, once the hangover had softened up a little, Panda went over to the other flat. He knocked, and from within heard Nano call, _"It's open!"_

He opened the door and poked his head in.

"Hey," he said. "So um . . . Lom's asleep and Ryth and Lal are—making me feel all third-wheely, d'you mind if I hang out in here for a bit?"

"Not at all," said Nano, beckoning. Panda came in and went straight for the refrigerator. He rooted around for a while, looking for anything vaguely palatable.

"Where's Niles?" he asked.

"In his room," said Nano. "Been there all day. He came out to scavenge once or twice, but . . . I figure it's probably best to leave him be."

"Yeah," said Panda. He conceded to his upset stomach and abandoned his search for food. "What're you up to?"

"Hit up the bookstore earlier today," she said, brandishing a paperback. "Picked up a couple of interesting-looking things, if you want to take a crack at one."

"Eh, I might," he said.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"So, time for the stereotypical question," Nano sighed. "How're you holding up?"

Panda shrugged, not looking at her. "Fine, I guess," he said.

When she didn't respond, he risked a glance at her. She had one eyebrow raised, her arms folded. Panda sighed and moved to sit with her on the couch.

"As fine as I can be," he amended.

She nodded. "Fair enough."

"How about you?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Can I . . . be honest with you?"

"Yeah, of course," said Panda, turning to face her more fully. She sighed, eyes down, rubbing her arm.

"It's stupid, and it's totally . . . off the point, like, I _should_ be thinking about Zylus, I should be missing him and grieving over him and all of that, but. . . . I can't—I can't stop thinking about Sips," she said. "About . . . what I did to him. I just—it just keeps replaying, over and over and _over._ And I keep thinking about—how else it could've gone, what else we could've done, how we could've just— _not_ killed him, and there are so _many_ ways, Panda, every time I think about it, I. . . ."

She broke off, shaking her head. She bit her lip and sniffled, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It's been happening with the others, too," she said, more softly. "Pyrion, and Turps, and all those people in the corridors, even the Board, I just—we didn't even _try,_ Panda. We didn't even _try_ to—to _not kill them!"_

"You did, though," said Panda. "With Sips and Turps and Pyrion. You gave them the chance to walk away and they didn't take it."

"But the guards, or whatever they were—"

"They knew what they signed on for," said Panda.

"But the _Board,_ Panda, we just—we just kicked the door in and _murdered_ them. We didn't even _try_ to talk to them, not once, not a bit. Hulmes—Hulmes had children, and half of the Board I don't even know their names, and the _Director_ wasn't—he was—"

"They could've talked to us _any time,"_ said Panda. "They could've got in contact with us, but instead, they burned our flat to the fucking ground and went to hide in a hole. Okay?"

 _"No,_ Panda, it's _not_ okay!" Nano exclaimed. "We should have _tried!_ We should have tried, at least, to talk to them, like they were people. Awful people, terrible people, _evil people,_ but— _people!"_

Panda shifted, uncomfortable. He looked away.

"They had their chance," he said lamely.

"Did they?" she asked.

"I think—"

There was a loud _thunk_ from Nilesy's room.

Panda was at the door quick as blinking. He rattled the handle. It was locked.

"Nilesy?" he called.

The only answer was a soft scuffing noise.

Seized by a terrible premonition, Panda zipped back for a run-up and cannoned into the door at full speed. It burst open in a shower of splinters.

The room was tidy. The bed was made. There was a single handwritten note on the desk. The bathroom door was open but the lights were off. The closet—

Nilesy was hanging by his black silk funeral tie. His face was purpling. His knees were bent. His hands were empty claws, clutching at nothing. Panda went for the knife in his belt and grabbed empty air. He darted to Nilesy and caught him around the waist and lifted him up.

 _"Nano!"_ he screamed.

She rushed in, slow-motion. Her face went white with shock. She ran to him, as though in a nightmare. Nilesy pushed him feebly. Nano grabbed the tie. It disintegrated under her hand.

Panda dropped to his knees and tore the slipknot from around Nilesy's neck. Nilesy gasped in a hoarse and rattling breath. The tie had pressed a deep trench into his skin. The color drained from his face as he coughed and trembled. Panda gathered him into his lap, stroking his cheeks, tipping his head back for him so he could breathe.

"Niles, Nilesy," he whispered. "C'mon, breathe, just breathe, you're all right, you're all right. . . ."

Nilesy clutched Panda's shirt in weak and trembling fingers.

"Don't—" he croaked, weeping, clumsy. "Don't—tell Lom. Please. Please. Don't."

Tears slid down Panda's cheek. Nilesy was taken by a fit of coughing. His face was hot, his hands cold. The long divot in his neck was starting to redden and swell back into shape.

"Not you, too," Panda whimpered, while the tears dripped off his chin onto Nilesy's shoulder. "Please, God, Niles, not you, too."

Paper rustled somewhere. Panda could scarcely hear it through the ringing in his ears.

"Oh, God," Nano said, her voice thick.

"We should—should we call an ambulance?" Panda asked, not daring to take his eyes off Nilesy. "Is he—I mean is he—"

"I'm getting Lalna," Nano declared, although her voice was shaking. "They'll know."

"No," Nilesy mumbled. "No, no—don't. . . ."

"Shh," Panda said, petting his hair while Nano strode out. "Shh, Niles, it's okay, just—just be here, all right? Just take it easy, just breathe."

"I'm sorry," he said, so choked up on sobs and coughing it was nearly unintelligible. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"No, Niles, no, it's all right, it's all right," Panda assured him, scarcely able to speak past the lump in his throat. "It's me who should be sorry, it's us. This isn't your fault, _none_ of this is your fault. I'm sorry, Niles. I love you. I really, honestly, truly love you, and I'm _so glad_ I do, and I—and I—"

He couldn't find any more words. The floor trembled and Lalna came in. Gingerly, they extracted Nilesy from Panda's arms. They touched his windpipe with two fingers. Nilesy shrank away, but did not flinch.

"I do not believe his larynx is frac-fractured," Lalna reported. "He should still be ad-ad-admitted for obszservation. There are many co _oooo_ omplications which may arise after a near- ~~hanging~~ that mus-mus-mus-mu _uuu_ ust—"

They broke off. Their eyes flickered, then turned blue.

"I've contacted emergency services," they said. "They'll arrive in five minutes."

"'M fine, sib," Nilesy protested weakly. "Fine, I'm fine, don't . . . on my account. . . ."

"You shouldn't talk," Lalna said.

They held him until the EMTs arrived to take him away, and then went with him to the hospital. Panda stayed kneeling in the closet, the half-disintegrated black tie still in his hand.

After a time, Nano sat down with him.

"He . . . left a note," she said softly.

Panda shut his eye, flinching from the notion.

"Oh, God," he said. He was going to be sick.

"You haven't got to read it, if you don't want to," she said. "Not now, anyway. Not ever, if. . . ."

Panda took a deep breath. He let it out again. He held out a hand.

After a moment, she put a piece of paper in it. Panda wiped the tears from his eye and forced himself to read.

 

_Hello, you._

 

_This isn't your fault. I need you to know that, before anything else. This **isn't your fault.** I know you've done the best you could. It's not about you. I wish it were, and I know you wish it were, so that it could be something you could fix, but it's not. Some things really can't be fixed. I'm one of them, and that's all right._

_People die. Today it was me._

_I don't blame you for not loving me. No one in their right mind ever could. I know that. In some ways I've always known that. I don't want you to feel like you've done something wrong, just by not loving me. No one could expect you to do the impossible, and especially not for me. The only people who loved me are dead. I killed one of them, and the other one's gone because I couldn't help him. I made him miserable for months on end and never once thought of anyone but myself._

_They say suicide is selfish, and I'm sure that's true. All I've ever been is selfish. I wish I could've been something else, but it's a bit late, now. I held on as long as I could. I know I haven't earned my way out yet._

_But people die. Every day, all the time. Is it really that wrong to check out early?_

_Lalna, I'm sorry. I wish I could've been the brother you deserve. I hope you'll have a better life now that I'm not in it. I hope you can forget me._

_Lomadia, I'm sorry. I know you tried. I'm sorry to do it this way, but I didn't want to leave a mess. You did everything you could. You will always be my angel._

_Rythian, I'm sorry. You've been far better to me than I ever deserved. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I'm only glad I got to live long enough to see you find a home, and a family, even if I can't be part of it._

_Nano, I'm sorry. You were always right about me. I am a monster. I know this is too little, too late, but at least I can't hurt anyone anymore. At least you get something like what you wanted._

_Panda, I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I made such a monster of your best friend. I'm sorry I made you love me when you didn't want to, when you hated every second of it. I hope now that I'm out of the way, you can find—_

 

Panda crumpled the note in his fist and threw it against the wall. It bounced back into his knee, feather-light and inconsequential. He crumbled, wracked by sobs so ruinous he couldn't breathe.

Gently, carefully, Nano put an arm around his shoulders. He fell against her, speechless and weeping and overflowing with pain.

"It's not your fault," she murmured. "It's not your fault."

He couldn't even find the words to tell her she was wrong.

* * *

 

Lalna brought Nilesy home the following evening. He was bruised and sheepish, but apparently none the worse for wear.

"I told the medical personnel it was an accident," Lalna told Nano, their hand still on Nilesy's back. "They believed me. They've seen similar cases in the past involving autoerotic asphyxiation."

"Nearly wish you'd told them the truth, sib," Nilesy sighed, listless.

"They would've committed you to an institution, which I didn't think you would like," said Lalna. Nilesy just shrugged.

"Thank . . . you," Nano said, looking them up and down suspiciously. "For handling that."

"I attempted to find the optimal solution," Lalna said, their eyes a cool, impenetrable blue.

"Right," said Nano, shaking herself. "We've sort of . . . future-proofed the flat for you, Nilesy. All the sharps are out, and there's no . . . um, rope-like . . . materials. We figured you ought to be able to have _some_ privacy, but—y'know, we'd also like to have . . . _you._ Intact. Still."

"You haven't got to do all that," Nilesy said. "I was having a moment. It's over now, I'm fine."

"Yes, well, we've done it anyway in case you happen to have _another_ moment," Nano said.

He shrugged again. He kept his eyes strictly averted from anyone in the room. A wry smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

"S'pose you read that stupid thing I wrote," he said.

"Some of us did," Nano allowed. She glanced back at Rythian, who was sitting on the couch with Lomadia. He shook his head, his face hard with pain.

"Not my best work, I'll be honest," Nilesy sighed, rolling his eyes. "I doubt it'll be winning any Pulitzers."

"Nilesy," Nano said, pained.

"I'm fine, Nano," he said. "Honestly. I'm _fine._ I had a lapse in judgement and it's over now."

"Hell of a lapse," Panda muttered. The bruises ringing Nilesy's neck were gruesome.

Again, Nilesy just shrugged. "If nobody minds, I'd like to get some sleep in a real bed," he said. "I'll leave the door open, if it'll make you feel better."

"You haven't got to," Lomadia said. Her voice was very soft, but Nilesy flinched at it anyway. "I can hear everything."

"Right," he mumbled. Downcast and awkward, he drifted to his room and shut the door quietly behind him.

There was a brief, taut silence in his wake.

"Look," Nano said. "I hate to be the one to say this, but—"

"Then don't say it," Panda interrupted.

Nano pressed her lips into a thin line, then nodded, jerkily.

"Fine!" she said. "Fine. _Would_ someone like to get dinner going?"

"Yes," said Lalna. They went into the little kitchen and started bustling.

"Thank you," said Nano.

The rest of the evening passed very quietly indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Pan for the "Panda drinking cake-flavored vodka and telling Nilesy to fuck off" scenario~


	54. Chapter 53

Eight days after Zylus died, Nilesy made his decision.

Nano's "future-proofing" was woefully inadequate in the face of even an ounce of creativity. The flat was on the fifth floor, for example, and the windows opened plenty wide enough to admit a body. There was a bottle of bleach under the sink. Rythian existed, and continued to be well within arm's reach on a regular basis. For all their grand displays of concern, they really hadn't put too much _thought_ into any of it.

It took him the whole day to gather himself, chewing his fingernails and tugging his short-cropped hair and pacing and sweating. By evening, he'd worn himself down, so exhausted by constant anxiety that he simply didn't have the energy to worry anymore. He took one last shaking breath and stepped out into the common area.

He'd been hoping for just Nano and Lalna, or better yet, no one, but they were all gathered there, subdued but soldiering on. Panda was cooking something, stir fry by the look of it. Nano was reading, Rythian and Lalna were cuddling casually, Lomadia had somehow got hold of a handheld gaming system. As Nilesy stood in the doorway, they noticed him one by one, and the conversation and activity wound down to a stop. Nano marked her place in her book and closed it.

"Yes, Nilesy?" she said, her voice soft.

Nilesy took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and spoke.

"I need you to find a place to put me where I can get help," he said.

"Niles, _no,"_ Panda said, horror evident in his voice.

"You _have_ to," Nilesy insisted, shivering, choked up. "I can't—I can't do this anymore. None of this would've happened— _none_ of this would've happened if I hadn't been so . . . fucking _crazy._ I can't let anyone else get hurt. I can't . . . make you lose anyone else." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. Still, his next words came out as only a whisper. "Not even . . . me."

"But—" Panda began, but Nano cut him off.

"We'll find someplace," she said, quiet and restrained.

Nilesy risked opening his eyes and saw her watching him with something approaching awe, tainted by pity. He looked away.

"And—for whatever it's worth, Nilesy, it's not going to be . . . like last time," said Nano. "We'll make sure. We'll find somewhere good, somewhere reliable, where they'll . . . they'll take good care of you. I promise."

The corner of his mouth turned up even as his lip tried to curl.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but your promises don't mean a hell of a lot to me," he said.

She looked away, biting her lip.

"That's . . . fair," she said.

"You could . . . help us look?" Rythian suggested. "If that would help? So you can . . . veto anything that looks sketchy."

He shook his head. "I'd just end up vetoing everything."

"Nilesy, you haven't got to do this," Panda said, pleading.

"Please, please _God,_ stop trying to talk me out of it," Nilesy said. His voice shook. "It was hard enough deciding to do this, please _God_ don't tell me I'm wrong, because fuck _me,_ I'll believe you."

Lomadia ruffled her wings, quiet and attentive.

"We'll come visit," she said. "All the time. Every day, if you want. To make sure they're being good. And if anything's bad, we'll take you away right then."

"There are at least two reputable mental health facilities nearby," Lalna mentioned. Their eyes were a vibrant purple, trending towards the pale. "Most have a ten-day inpatient program, followed by a five-week outpatient therapy course."

Nilesy blinked at them, breathing for the first time in hours.

"Ten _days?"_ he said faintly. "Is that . . . all?"

"Followed by a five-week outpatient therapy course," Lalna repeated. "It's generally recommended that patients obtain a therapist to see weekly or biweekly after completing the inpatient and outpatient programs."

Nilesy felt himself overbalancing. He caught himself on the wall before he fell. All the words had gone out of his head. He ought to have felt relieved, he was sure. He didn't know what he was feeling. It was so difficult to tell, without Zylus to explain it to him. . . .

"That's not _so_ bad," Panda said, apprehensive. "I s'pose if it's close by, and they let us, y'know, visit."

"I can also hack into their databases and ensure no suspicious activity has occurred," Lalna said.

"We shouldn't have to worry about money," Nano said. "What with . . . Strife, and all."

"Nilesy?" Rythian said, his voice cutting through the fog that was rising in Nilesy's head. "Do you want us to talk about this without you?"

He stood frozen, still unable to find his voice. It had been a fairly straightforward question, one that expected a _yes,_ but that might still have been the wrong answer. Would they think him selfish, weak, lazy, for foisting it all on them? How could he possibly trust them with the decision, anyway? But maybe he was _supposed_ to leave, _supposed_ to walk away now and let them get on with it so he wouldn't know that they'd had someplace picked out for _months. . . ._

"Nilesy," Rythian said again, and his voice was firmer, decisive in a way that sent shivers down his spine and settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. "Go back to your room, please."

Relief flooded him, and he hated it. The instruction was unequivocal, taking all the burden of decision off of him. Of course, it had to, because he was too weak to make any choices on his own, too stupid, because he never thought of the consequences—

Someone took his arm and touched his shoulder, and his whole body went cold as ice. He couldn't breathe, his heart lost its rhythm, his fingers went numb. Idiot that he was, he'd just _stood_ there, not done what he was told even when it was _explicitly_ clear, and soon the hand on his arm would dig in bruising fingers and drag him away somewhere where the others wouldn't see what happened to him.

"It's all right, Nilesy," Rythian said softly, leading him away with hands still gentle. Nilesy couldn't stop shivering, could barely keep his feet underneath him. His eyes were too blurred with tears to see where he was going, but soon Rythian sat him down in a chair and took a knee next to him. Nilesy sat there and shivered, half-wishing Rythian had just gone ahead and slammed him against the wall, or thrown him to the floor, or shoved him into bed, because it was always worse with words. . . .

"Do you want me to stay?" Rythian asked.

And of course he didn't, but it wasn't a choice, so he forced himself to nod, even as the traitorous tears slipped out of his eyes and crawled down his cheeks.

Rythian watched him for a moment. He must have known Nilesy was lying, must have been able to read it in every miserable line of his face. Nilesy was an _awful_ liar, after all, and now he'd gone and made things worse by even trying. . . .

"Okay," said Rythian. "You know where to find me."

And he got up, and he left the room, and he shut the door behind him.

Nilesy sat there, paralyzed, scarcely able to breathe. He stared at the far wall, blinking, blindsided. He half expected Rythian to come back, make a mockery of him for _believing,_ but. . . .

But Rythian wasn't Zylus, after all.

As he remembered how to breathe, slowly, the tension started to go out of him, the fog to clear. A heavier sickness filled his stomach, such that he had to curl up and pull the remnants of his hair to keep from vomiting. How _easy_ it had been to fall right back into the pattern of it, how _effortless._ Shame made his skin hot, so hot he wanted to tear himself open like a too-thick jacket. Or better yet, to fill himself with freezing water, drown out the heat and the shame and all thought. Zylus hadn't let him drown himself in months, had wheedled and scolded and bullied him out of it every time. He knew it was wrong. He knew Zylus was only looking out for him.

But Zylus wasn't there anymore. Zylus couldn't stop him now, couldn't shatter him with consequences in the aftermath.

Slowly, Nilesy unfolded himself. He tottered to the bathroom, knelt next to the tub. He fumbled with the drain until he got it to plug. He turned on the water, and the roaring of it filled his ears. He was still shivering.

It took an age for the tub to fill, and he was so sure that someone would come in and stop him that he almost lost his nerve. Surely, they could hear the thoughts spilling out of his head, surely they would _know—_

But Zylus was gone. Zylus couldn't hear. The roar of his thoughts could shout itself hoarse and now _no one_ would ever hear.

Nilesy put his hands on the edge of the tub and stuck his face under the water. The cold stung his skin, and the prickling pain of the water rushing into his sinuses made him jerk upright again, coughing and sputtering. He shook himself and stuck his face under again.

He'd lost the trick of it, somewhere along the way. He couldn't make himself inhale, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't hold his head under, popping up gasping and coughing every time his breath ran out, four, five, six times, until he was weeping with frustration. If only someone would hold him under, if only someone would grasp the back of his head and force him beneath the surface. . . .

He felt his arm move. His hand gripped the back of his neck so tightly it made his whole skull ache.

Vee plunged him back into the water, cracked his forehead against the bottom of the tub. Nilesy struggled, but his alter's strength was unwavering. His breath gave out, and the first gasp was agony, searing through him white-hot and thorny.

The second was bliss.

* * *

 

About an hour later, Lalna came and extracted him from the tub. They held him while he coughed and gasped and shivered. They got him a towel and patted him dry, then sat with him half in their lap, one arm around his shoulder.

"We've found an acceptable facility," they said softly, after many minutes of silence. "Callington Road Hospital. It's located approximately three miles southeast of the city center. Nano would like you to go tonight, because she has a Board meeting in the morning and she'd like to fill out your paperwork with you. Everyone else would like to come, too, but they aren't necessary."

"Right— _right_ now?" Nilesy croaked. His shivers, which had been subsiding, picked up again.

"I can help you pack," Lalna offered.

"Is this . . . a choice, or. . . ?"

They tipped their head to the side. "Of course," said Lalna.

"Then I'm not going tonight," said Nilesy.

"Will you go in the morning?" they asked.

He hesitated. They frowned at him, their eyes turning blue.

"Will you ever go?" they asked.

Nilesy pressed his forehead to their chest, swallowing down bile.

"Can you . . . pack for me?" he asked, his voice scarcely more than a whisper.

They bumped the top of his head with their forehead.

"Yes," they said. "But I'll only pack your stupidest clothes."

"Joke's on you," he said thinly, a smile fighting through his tears. "I haven't got any stupid clothes."

"Clothes lack sentience, and therefore they're _all_ stupid," said Lalna.

"Damn," said Nilesy, laughter or sobs making his voice shudder. "Damn, you've got me there."

They hugged him tightly. He hugged them back.

"If they hurt you," Lalna murmured, "I will ruin them."

"Kind of you to s-say so," Nilesy choked.

They tightened their grip. "I've been a very bad sibling to you," they said. "I won't make the same mistakes again. I've corrected my programming to ensure it."

Nilesy sighed. Their conviction was more exhausting than reassuring. He patted their chest.

"Go pack my stupid clothes, sib," he said.

"Okay," said Lalna.

* * *

 

In the end, only Nano, Rythian, and Lalna went with him. They took a train, Nilesy sitting with his bag in his lap, Rythian hunched up small to avoid accidentally touching anyone, Nano reading her book, Lalna observing the other passengers with idle curiosity.

The hospital itself was a small complex of five or six buildings with lots of trees and green-space interspersed amongst them. Lalna led them to the patient intake, and Nano explained the situation to the receptionist. She was given a couple sheafs of paperwork, one of which was for her and the other of which was for Nilesy. They settled in a group of four armchairs in the open lobby. Nilesy did his best to concentrate on the paperwork, but everything about the place was jabbing scalpels into his spine.

The smell. The ticking of the clock. The quiet babbling of a woman in the corner, the coming and going of nurses. His skin prickled as people stared at him, at the bruises ringing his neck. It was getting so hard to breathe that the noose might still have been there, crushing his windpipe.

There was a brief intake appointment, despite it being nearly eight o'clock at night. Nilesy was far too distressed to speak, shivering and terrified, but the woman just gave him a piece of paper and a pen and asked him questions in a calm, professional tone. It took about twenty minutes, and at the end of it she thanked him and took both her page of notes and the paper he'd been writing on. He was allowed to return to the lobby and sit with Nano and Rythian and Lalna. None of them tried to talk to him.

A young woman came in with stitches all the way up both arms. A middle-aged man came out from his intake appointment and stood in the middle of the room for a good five minutes, just staring around and frowning. The babbling woman at the back of the room was still going, chatting to no one. Someone, very obviously drunk, stumbled past behind Nilesy. They caught themselves on the back of his chair and he froze solid as the stench of alcohol washed over him. They moved on.

"Nilesy?" Rythian said softly, leaning in closer to him. "Are you all right?"

Nilesy shook his head, shrugging. "I just—I feel a bit of a fraud, darling," he said, his mouth cracking into a smile. He tugged on his hair absentmindedly. "I mean. Coming here. When I'm not—I mean, compared to everyone else here, I'm . . . there's nothing really _wrong_ with me, ahah."

Rythian raised an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing," he intoned.

"Not _really,"_ said Nilesy. "I've had my fair share of issues, but, ahah, who hasn't, honestly?"

"Most people don't have extra people living in their heads, Nilesy," Rythian said.

"They're not causing any trouble!" Nilesy objected. _At the moment,_ he did not add.

"Most people don't attempt suicide, either," Nano said.

Swallowing, Nilesy's fingers brushed the bruises on his neck. "That—was an isolated incident. I'm fine, honestly, it's not like—I don't _need_ to be here, like these other people, I'm taking resources from people who actually need them, I—"

"I'm sure ninety percent of people who walk through those doors say _but I'm not crazy,"_ Nano said flatly, cocking a thumb at the main entrance.

"No one's saying—I didn't say that," Nilesy said. "I'm—I'm just not, y'know—you haven't got to have pneumonia to be sick. There's people who need to be in hospital and then there's people who're just looking for attention, and—"

"And you need to be here," Lalna said.

"Sib—"

"Brother," Lalna cut him off, impertinent. Nano gave them an odd look which they did not acknowledge. Nilesy dropped his gaze and tugged on his hair again.

"I s'pose . . . if you say so," he mumbled.

Another hour passed in uncomfortable silence. Finally, a nurse came to collect him, to take him over to the inpatient ward. Like he was being summoned to the gallows, Nilesy got to his feet and picked up his bag.

"We can—" Nano began, and then turned to the nurse. "Can we come with him? Just to help him get settled in."

The nurse frowned. "Just one of you," they said. "It's after lights-out, and we don't want to disturb the other patients."

Nano pursed her lips, but didn't object. She returned her attention to Nilesy. "Got a preference?" she asked.

He was shaking almost too hard to move, much less speak. He just managed to shake his head.

"I'll—I will," said Rythian, rising. "If . . . that's all right."

Nano tossed up her hands in a noncommittal gesture. Lalna nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Great," said the nurse. "If you'll follow me, please."

It took Rythian linking arms with Nilesy to get him to actually start moving. The nurse led them out into the dark, through a brief stretch of woods—where Nilesy clutched Rythian's arm so hard he must have drawn blood—and to a secluded cabin-like structure. The nurse opened the door and let them inside. It was well-lit, about as homey and welcoming as a high school, but there was no screaming or rattling of locked doors.

There were, however, metal screens on all the windows.

The nurse brought them to a room indistinguishable from the others and unlocked it with a key on their belt.

"Go ahead and get settled in," they said. "I'll give you a couple of minutes."

Rythian brought Nilesy into the room. The nurse did not follow, but stood propping the door open. Gently, Rythian took the bag from Nilesy's hand and set it on the foot of the bed. He heaved a sigh.

"Well," he said. "I guess—it's only ten days. At most."

Nilesy didn't respond. The metal mesh was on the window here, too, on the inside of the glass. There was a door into a tiny bathroom. The mirror was made of metal, and had been scratched until it was nearly useless. The smell was starting to get to him again. He could practically taste the pills.

Rythian was fishing for something in his jacket pocket. He came back over to Nilesy and held it out to him, carefully hiding the object from the nurse's view. He moved like he was trying to make friends with a wild deer.

"I—well, Lalna helped me make this," Rythian said. "For—for you."

In his hands was a thin tangle of copper wire, topped with a malformed cluster of what might, in some world, have been petals. There were two flat, broad leaves sticking off the sides of the rod.

"I don't think they'll let me have that," Nilesy said quietly.

"I won't tell if you don't?" Rythian hazarded, glancing over his shoulder at the nurse attendant. As Nilesy watched, a jagged arc of electricity climbed up the flower, rooted in Rythian's elbow. Rythian hurriedly smacked his own arm, like it was doing something indecent. Nilesy almost laughed.

"You can—put it in my bag, darling," Nilesy said. "I don't fancy having that jumping to me."

"Oh," said Rythian. He cleared his throat. "Right. Yes. Okay."

He edged past Nilesy and tucked the metal flower into a side pocket of the duffel bag. He stepped back and stuck his hands in his pockets. He turned back to Nilesy and gestured weakly to the bag.

"It was supposed to be a daisy," he mentioned, sheepish.

"Most people would've just bought real ones from the shop," Nilesy said.

Rythian shrugged. "I didn't want them to wilt. And I wasn't . . . _sure_ you weren't allergic. I didn't want—yes. Anyway."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Rythian cleared his throat again.

"I guess I should . . . go," he said. "I'll—I'll probably come by. Tomorrow. Panda and Lomadia want to come, too, so . . . I'll see you then. Probably. I'll try."

"Thanks," said Nilesy.

Sidelong, Rythian headed for the door. He glanced back at Nilesy when he reached the threshold.

"It's . . . going to be okay, Nilesy," he said.

Nilesy didn't respond. There were words he wanted to say, but he couldn't make them come out. Rythian turned to go.

"Rythian," he blurted. Rythian turned back. Nilesy wrapped his arms around his own waist and bowed his head, keeping his eyes closed, mustering his courage.

"If I don't make it out of here—" he said quietly.

"Nilesy, of _course_ you'll get out of here," Rythian interrupted. Nilesy dug his fingernails into his own arm, gesturing sharply with the other hand.

"Listen to me, if _I_ don't make it out of here," he said. He forced himself to meet Rythian's eyes, willing him to understand. When he spoke again, his voice was scarcely more than a whisper. "Take . . . will you take care of Liam?"

Rythian took a slow breath, comprehension smoothing his features.

"I will," he said. Nilesy sagged with relief, dropping his gaze. Rythian ducked his head as though trying to follow. "But you're going to be fine, Nilesy."

"Kind of you to say so," Nilesy croaked. His eyes were filling with tears, a lump rising in his throat.

Rythian stepped in and hugged him, not so tightly that he couldn't have gotten away if he'd tried.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Rythian murmured. "But you don't have to stay, either."

"I'm so _tired,"_ Nilesy said, the tears sliding down his cheeks. "I'm so _tired,_ Rythian."

"It will get easier," Rythian said. "You'll be all right. Someday. You'll be all right _someday."_

Nilesy swallowed. He put his arms around Rythian and buried his face in his chest.

"I trust you," he whispered.

Rythian touched his mask to the top of Nilesy's head. He took him by the shoulders and held him out at arm's length.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

Nilesy just nodded. Rythian's eyes crinkled in a smile, and he bumped Nilesy's forehead with his own.

Then he let go, and stepped back, and walked out. The nurse watched him go, then turned to Nilesy.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," they said. "Lights-out was at ten, so we'd appreciate it if you could try and keep the noise to a minimum. Wake up's at seven, breakfast is at eight. The door'll be locked, but there's a button you can press to call an attendant."

Sniffling, Nilesy could only nod again. The nurse closed the door, leaving him alone. He stood in the center of the plain, empty room for countless minutes. Slowly, he turned. He went to the bed, knelt on it, and rested his forearms on the windowsill. He took the ugly copper flower from his bag and stared out at the misty night. For a long time, he stayed there, just breathing.

It wasn't easy, but he managed.


	55. Epilogue

Trell was working after-hours, because of course he was. That, after all, was the kind of place Strife Solutions was. You started at the very _very_ bottom and you worked your way up.

Even if you were just a custodian.

He'd slept through his alarm and had to skip back to make it to work on time. The post-seizure exhaustion was only making things harder. It was almost bad enough that it would be worth it to curl up in a supply closet and take a nap.

He wasn't sure what it was about the lab that made him pause. He'd spent a lot of time around B5, not as much in the north wing because the scientists there got very snippy if you hung about too much. The lights were all out. There was nothing remarkable about it, outwardly. Still, as he passed the door, his hair stood on end. A little tingle in his gut told him something was wrong. He slowed, halfway down the corridor. He left the custodial cart and went back to stand at the door.

Everyone knew about Room B5N5, or at least everyone who had to work anywhere near it. He'd been told in no uncertain terms what was inside. He'd never looked for himself, because there were some things it was better you never knew at all, especially if the police came knocking.

He stood in front of the door, like maybe he could sense something amiss if he just held very still. The longer he stood there, the more convinced he became that there really _was_ something wrong. There was a sharpish smell to the air. The tingle in his gut was getting worse, the kind of dreadful instinct that was probably his body trying to skip back on its own. He looked down at his shoes.

There was liquid seeping out from under the door. It had turned the floor black at its edges.

Trell swallowed. He leaned over and peered in the window. All the lights were out inside, and with the tint of the windows he couldn't see anything through them.

With a shaking hand, he got his building key out and stuck it in the keyhole. Carefully, he turned the handle and pulled the door open. He leaned forward, not quite putting his head into the room.

"Hello?" he called. His voice squeaked out halfway through the word, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "I say, _hello?_ Is—is someone in there?"

There was no answer. He could hear the faint, steady dripping of liquid. The sharp smell was overpowering.

"Bad idea," he muttered to himself, picking his way around the puddle on the floor. "Bad, bad, bad idea. . . ."

The lights clicked on automatically, set off by his movement. He blinked, squinted, wrinkled his nose. His breath stalled out in his throat and his limbs went numb with dread.

There was glass all over the floor. The remains of a tank stood like ancient ruins, jagged. Liquid was pooled beneath them, trailed around the room. The drain under the emergency drench shower was rusted into oblivion, the floor around it blackened as though by fire. Water was dripping out of the shower head, plinking into the pipes beneath.

Trell somehow found the air to breathe. His body lurched into motion all at once. He sprinted from the room, back down the corridor. He hit the cart so hard he toppled it. The radio was lost in the mess. He pawed through the scattered supplies. He grabbed the radio. He mashed the button.

"Security!" he gasped. "Security, anybody, is _anybody there?_ The thing, it's—the—the thing—"

The radio squawked, and an exasperated voice answered.

 _"_ _Fuckin' hell_ _, calm down._ _This is_ _Kat_ _Fox,_ _S_ _ecurity_ _. Who's this?"_

"Toffolo, custodial, I—it's the basement, the thing is—the—you've got to tell Mr. Strife, it's—"

 _"_ _All right, slow down_ _!_ _What basement? What thing?"_

Trell forced himself to take a breath. He was shaking so hard it made his lungs rattle.

"Specimen Five is gone," he said.

There was a moment. The radio crackled with static.

 _"Oh, shit,"_ said Fox.

 

 

 

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I have so many thanks to give.
> 
> First, and always, to Kalgalen, who started this whole mess and has continued to roll with it even through almost 500k words. They did the fantastic chapter banners, as well as helping to run (and doing all the AMAZING art for) the ask-powered blog on tumblr. They're a constant source of inspiration and I don't think I'll ever be able to thank them enough.
> 
> Secondly, to Pan, who's helped keep the energy alive for this story and the next, as well as contributing at least one character design and plenty of great moments. It's always a pleasure to talk with him, even if it devolves into keysmashing about 40% of the time (okay, maybe ESPECIALLY because it devolves into keysmashing about 40% of the time).
> 
> Thirdly, to the Birb Bros, an unrelenting source of positivity and inspiration. I wouldn't have made it this far without y'all.
> 
> Fourthly, to inventorbenny, radacefriend, meapgirl, ttaf1991, mioandlily, and everyone else who has come to yell at me about the happenings of this story, who has written powered!verse spinoffs, who has asked me questions about minutiae, who has drawn fanart, and who has otherwise engaged with this story on levels I could only have dreamed of. Y'all are the real heroes, here, and you give me hope that this story will live on long after the last line has been posted.
> 
> Lastly, to all of you who commented, who kudo'd, and who dropped by to read. It's been a rollercoaster and a monster, and I appreciate everyone who stuck with it to the end.
> 
> Stay tuned for the third and final installment of the Powered AU, _Blackout_ , coming soon to an AO3 near you!


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